


Map of the Problematique

by Nessaiya



Series: I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be. [2]
Category: Dragon Ball, House M.D.
Genre: Actually House and Wilson break up this time, Baby House!, Cuddy and Wilson are not always the good guys, Cuddy and Wilson try to meddle and it does not help, F/M, Gen, Hannah's family - Freeform, House loves his ducklings, House's parents - Freeform, I always hated Michael Tritter, It's going to be a happy story mostly!, Weddings in Vegas, and they love him, pain meds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 64,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessaiya/pseuds/Nessaiya
Summary: London was more than he could handle. More than she could handle. And problems just won’t go away. Still doesn’t mean they have to give up…





	1. After the storm.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, there is a lot missing. Actually, this was supposed to be a cross-over with my JAG-Story that I abandonned (shame on me) a long time ago. Here's the short version of what was supposed to happen in the corresponding JAG-part:
> 
> House and Hannah go to London together with Cramer and Cameron, while Chase is on vacation. They learn, however, that Chase is actually doing a friend of his, Anthony Dinozzo, a favor by trying to diagnose a foreign diplomat with an unknown illness. Of course House and his ducklings get dragged into that while he learns that he actually really likes Hannah's family. When certain people try to kill the diplomat, House, Hannah, and his ducklings end up in the crossfire, and Hannah reveals some rather... otherworldly... abilities. Cramer nearly gets killed, Cameron in turn kills one of the terrorists to save Chase, and House does not really know what to think of all that. This is the point where this part of the story starts.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own House or any of the people or episodes I’ve written about (btw… spoiler alert for the entire season 3). The McLachlans are mine, except for Vegeta. He belongs to Akira Toriyama.

The stewardess didn’t sense the awkward atmosphere around the four passengers entering first class. She didn’t react to the hidden glances between all of them, nor did she seem to be interested. It had been a long day, it would be a long flight, and she just didn’t have the nerves anymore to be interested in their passengers’ problems. So she just let the four of them figure out on their own who wanted to sit with whom.

When the woman with the auburn hair wanted to pair up with the other woman, the man with the cane just looked at her and growled. That caught the stewardess’ interest.

Maybe she wasn’t interested in problems.

But relationships abord her plane were her daily soap.

The redhead joined the man with the cane without a word, while the blonde man and the brunette walked to another row of seats.

Hannah wordlessly shoved her luggage into the rack and then sat down at the window, failing to ignore House sit down next to her.

How could she ignore the almost healed bruises in his face, or the dark spot on his lower lip, where the terrorist had hit him? All the time she had to fight the urge to hug him and never let him go.

All the time she was asking herself how he would decide.

All the time she feared he would decide against her and she had nothing to hold against that.

And still she knew she wouldn’t have changed her reaction to the threat the terrorists displayed in this hospital where they tried to save the witness’ life.

Should she have let them kill the man after they had failed to poison him slowly?

Was she supposed to watch the man she loved die just to keep her secret?

Watching him sit down out of the corner of her eye she decided that she would accept anything he decided.

The most important thing was that he was alife.

Greg House on the other hand couldn’t decide about what to think first.

Terrorists shooting his angiologist to scare him away from healing the patient?

Cameron injecting one of them with a deadly dose of painkillers to save Chase’s life?

The woman he loved going berserk on the rest of them?

Oh, and by the way, darling, I’m an alien…

He nibbled on the spot where his lip had been split, waiting for the pain, but it didn’t come.

He still had problems believing it.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched her looking out of the window and replayed her actions that day. They had been so happy at the wedding, who the hell would have thought that one of the doctors in the hospital was trying to kill their guy and hired half of the taliban army to stop them from curing him?

Hannah had extinguished them as if they were cockroaches.

The alien thing could be interesting…

The violence thing was scaring as hell.

 

***

 

They were flying for four hours when he spoke up for the first time.

“You got any clue when Cramer’s coming home?”

Sad black eyes looked at him, making him want to reach out, reassuring her that everything was alright.

“I’ll make sure he gets shipped home as soon as he’s transportable…”

They fell silent again for a while, House tapping his cane to the floor, Hannah looking out of the window.

“When would you have told me?” he suddenly asked, causing the Saiyajin to face him again.

“Or would you have hid it as long as possible?” he added, scrutinizing her.

He could see her mind working, realizing that before this incident she hadn’t even thought about it.

“I don’t know”, she admitted, crossing her arms before her chest.

She was clenched since he refused to talk to her after they had survived everything. When she clenched, he clenched, and it was worse than with him and Cameron.

“Maybe you’d have found out when our children would start to fly around the…”

She interrupted herself abruptly and turned her head to the window again. Tears burned in her eyes, urging her pride to let them out, to let her for once be the weak woman and not the ruthless warrior.

Just as always the pride won.

Of course she had thought about it.

And she had feared the moment he would find out _what_ she was.

Then she had pushed it into the back of her mind, telling herself that her times as warrior were over, that she had nothing to fear.

That she could be normal, finally.

“I’m sorry… I should have…”, her voice caught.

She didn’t know what she should have done.

How could she even think she could be normal? How could she think she’d have a future with this man?

While she was battling even harder against the tears, still facing the window, House next to her sighed heavily.

“I guess there just never was the perfect moment.”

She just nodded a yes, not trusting her voice to articulate the shortest answer.

Her mind was already ordering a U-haul to get her stuff out of his apartment.

“Tell me now”, House demanded, making her face him again.

“What?” she asked confused and ashamed of the rough sound of her voice.

“Tell me now”, he repeated, captivating her black gaze in his dark blue one, never missing the shining of unshed tears when he continued.

“I want to know everything about you before they start to fly.”

While he kissed away the first tear that made its way down her cheek his mind told him that this was a bad idea.

By the time he took her in his arms to soothe her it was screaming at him, telling him that in his arms was no human but an alien that had killed several people with her bare hands, some of them without even touching them.

When her arms went around his waist and her head leaned on his shoulder, her tears wetting his shirt he reminded himself that she had had thousands of opportunities to crush him with just one movement and had not done it.

He had needed time to think and he had seen what it had done to her.

And he just couldn’t let her go.

Not her.

 

***

 

Not only the nosy stewardess was watching them.

Cameron and Chase had a watchful eye on their boss and the head of Genetics, since they came out alife of this mess.

Cramer barely made it, the bullet having nicked an artery. Yet they were reassured he would recover completely.

Dr. McLachlan was silent.

House just behaved weird. For almost two weeks now.

Of course there had been questions.

There had been many of them, and it was not only the government or the police or the Navy who wanted to know what happened.

Most of the time he was sitting around, thinking, not talking to anyone.

Not that this would have been new, but he wasn’t even talking to Hannah.

He especially wasn’t talking to her.

“Something must have happened in there”, Chase said, watching the two of them.

“I know. But I think I don’t want to know _what_ happened.”

She had killed a man, and she wasn’t even sorry about it. She was shocked she had the ability to do something like that.

“He would have killed me, if you hadn’t injected him with the overdose”, Chase guessed her thoughts, shuddering at the images in his mind. He sure as hell never again would do Anthony DiNozzo a favor.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I took a life away.”

 

***

 

“My mother came to this planet as a baby, barely a week old. My father was forced to live with the people who destroyed his planet and killed his father for twenty years… Maybe I should rent the DVDs, it’s way easier to explain…”

He could tell that by now she was embarrassed by her tears, wiping them away quite desperately while she hugged one knee to her chest.

Looking at her thoughtfully he nodded.

“Maybe.”

Hannah just rested her chin on her knee, avoiding to look at him.

“Somehow my parents ended up saving the world, and then… well, then my sister Delia happened. Mom and Grampa… the man who adopted her… built a lawfirm. Dad kept helping out the military when he thought his intervention was needed. They had 15 other children, made a lot of money with the lawfirm… and at some time all of us children were or will be at this point to tell the one you love the truth. If you’re lucky he or she won’t run away screaming…”

House surprised her by chuckling.

“You forget that I can’t run.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, but got earnest again real soon.

“I didn’t want you to find out like that… Harm had problems with finding out like that, and he’s seen stranger things…” she admitted, remembering how confused her sister had sounded when she called her after the kidnapping in Baghdad. Her brother in law had killed and seen people getting killed, but the passion and violence a Saiyajin killed with was new for everybody. In the end it had turned out well, but…

“Oh, I believe he’s never seen a teenage girl with a cellphone in her you know where…”

“You always say that. Have you actually seen this girl?”

House looked at her dumbstruck. Nobody until now had assumed he was making this up – mostly, because as a doctor you saw _weird_ things all the time.

Slowly he started shaking his head.

“Nah… was a guy with his mp3-player in a really dark place.”

Hannah made a face at that.

“Ugh.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They fell silent again, House watching his hands on his knees. Bruises on the knuckles of his right hand still showed him that he had punched the terrorist who had been aiming at Hannah really hard.

The guy was aiming at him after that, and the scene in his conference room started to repeat itself in his head. Only this time he could see her face, pure rage displaying on it when she lauched herself at the man.

It had been stupid as hell. There had been two more in the room, trying to stop what they were doing.

And he knew she was not bullet proof…

Her growling at them in a language he didn’t understand had intimidated him, her actions had scared him motionless.

Or maybe he just didn’t move fast enough in the 5 seconds she needed to kill all of them.

Suddenly he looked at her again, eyes wide.

“That was no pressure point on my leg, was it?!”

She watched him intently. Then she shook her head.

He nodded absently. It had smelled like strong electricity in the room when she fired this glowing yellow thingy that pulverized one of the guys.

“I guess it’s numbing the damaged nerves.”

“Yep.”

Once again he fell silent.

“You might have to do it again when we’re at home…”

Big black eyes looked at him, making him want to hug her and never let her go.

“I still have a home?”

House looked at her for quite a while.

“’Course you have. It will be awkward at first. But I don’t think you were playing actress all the time.”

“I was never playacting!”

He frowned at her.

“Not even one orgasm?”

“Greg!”

“No, come on, I can handle it.”

She just sighed.

“Not even one.”

Her honesty surprised him. Okay, actually he was surprised that she didn’t whack him on the arm, or just ignored him when he said something stupid…

 

***

 

He was startled awake by something he couldn’t quite tell. Everything around him was silent, Hannah next to him sat in her chair and…

And looked quite disorientated, her fingers clawing into the armrest of her seat.

“You alright?”

She nodded a yes, her restless black eyes telling him she lied.

He nevertheless watched her lean back in her seat, turning her head towards the window.

He knew they had to talk.

He needed to talk or he would go crazy!

But not with this nosy stewardess that brought him one Scotch after the other.

That he switched off by asking her if she wanted to get him drunk so he would join the mile high club with her.

When he turned to Hannah again he could see the corners of her mouth were curled up slightly.


	2. The 500 pound gorilla in the room...

Their ride home had been as quiet as their arrival at the airport, with him rolling his eyes at the passengers clapping their hands, while Hannah just grabbed her stuff and waited for him to join her.

The cab-driver stared at him when his stranger grabbed their luggage, effortlessly hanging it over her shoulders while he limped to the entrance of their home, before he realized that she had the keys.

The cabbie obviously thought something along the lines of him being a selfish ass letting the woman haul everything to the door.

_If he knew…_

If he knew Hannah could drag around their luggage AND his cab without breaking into sweat, man, would his eyes get big!

She just opened the door, getting inside and dropping all of their stuff next to the piano before stepping out of her high heels.

House’s gaze followed her into the kitchen before returning to the heap next to his entrance door.

This was so normal.

This was so… her.

He followed her into the kitchen where she rumaged in the freezer.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, turning around to him.

Watching the pizza in her hands he needed too much time to answer.

“I… I also could order something…”, she continued, her eyes never really meeting his.

House caught her hand with the frozen food before she could stuff it into the freezer again.

“Pizza is okay, as long as you don’t burn it. And I mean the oven, not… well, you.”

She frowned at him briefly, before turning around wordlessly to said thing to heat it up.

House sighed.

“Hannah… I’m sorry…”

“Why? You are right… I could burn this thing.”

Facing him again he could see no humor in her face when she said that and he didn’t know what to answer.

Suddenly she sighed heavily.

“If I’d know this would be this awkward, I would never have…”

She stopped herself before she could finish the sentence.

House leaned on his cane, his eyes fixed on her, seeing her squirm under his glance for the first time, again opening her mouth to speak.

“Don’t!” he interrupted her.

“But I…”

“Don’t you dare to even think about what you are going to think about”, the diagnostician growled. When she just looked at him, he continued.

“We can’t change what happened. But we can work on it.”

At that she focused on him, making a step towards him.

He took a step back.

“See? You’re afraid of me”, Hannah concluded, hands on her hips.

“How can we work with that? You wanting to run every time I come near you?”

She could see his mind work, his face showing his effort to come up with an explanation for his behaviour, the fingers of his right hand closing firmly around his cane.

Then suddenly he looked up, closing the distance between them, the cane falling to the floor when his arms closed around her waist.

“Of course I am afraid. I’ve never seen something like that before. But I’m glad it was you with me in this room, and not Cameron, or Chase. All of us would be dead. And I told you it would be awkward at first.”

A small smile crept on her face, a hint to her sarcasm reappearing when she placed her palms on his chest.

“Got more than you wanted?”

He cocked his head, studying her face for a while before answering.

“Got everything I need.”

She just rested her head next to her hands, listening to his heartbeat.

“Think things can go back to the way they were?” she then asked.

House rested his chin on top of her head, hands softly stroking up and down her back.

She didn’t feel any different.

“I hope so.”

Pulling her face up he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

She didn’t taste any different.

“Give me a little time, okay?” he said, kissing her a second time when her arms closed around his waist.

“I’ll give you all the time you need.” She hestitated a bit.

“I just hope you won’t take too long. You haven’t touched me for almost two weeks now…”

He frowned, then decided to laugh a little.

“You just want me for my body.”

Hannah remained earnest.

“No. I want all of you. I just hope I haven’t screwed up too much.”

House narrowed his eyes, keeping his arms around her when she wanted to step out of his embrace.

“I believe saving my life and the lives of everybody in this hospital can’t be described as screwing up. I’ll manage, you’ll see.”

When this big guy in the white uniform could manage an alien wife, then he could, too.

One second later he rethought this thought.

Ever since the wedding he was having these thoughts. Listening to the Navy-guy telling his friends that for once he managed to put everything in the right order: secret love affair, elope before becoming her boss and then knocking her up… The other guy laughing at that, caressing his new wife’s slightly swollen belly and laughing about himself never doing anything in the right order.

Jesus, sometimes he really was pathetic…

The woman in his arms looked at him with a confused expression on her face.

“Greg?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you let go off me, now? I’m starving.”

“You were the one complaining about not being touched by me.”

He nevertheless let her step out of his hug, from where she got back to the oven and the pizza.

“Hannah…”

She turned around, still looking a bit confused, yet also amused by his last remark when he shocked her.

“I love you.”

Giving her no time to answer he limped out of the kitchen, falling down on his couch in the living room, rethinking what the Navy-guy had said to him one of the nights after all had happened.

 

***

 

It had been in the middle of the night, some days after the incident.

Of course they couldn’t head for the US after something like that just so.

NCIS had a lot of questions, even though Agent DiNozzo hadn’t been the least bit surprised how everything had ended.

JAG had a lot of questions, but since their big chief was married to… one of them… he also didn’t really wonder how all of them came out there alife.

Okay, almost all of them. Cramer still was critical. Again, one of his kiddies had been hurt.

Yet that was not really his problem.

He was having trouble to sleep, so he sat in the living room of this stunning house Harmon Rabb and his wife lived in. If he could carry this thing he would have stolen it and placed it on top of his appartment-building to live there. The TV showed a mindless show, something about Z-class celebrities trying to survive in a jungle.

Please, as if the whole world wouldn’t be glad if they just forgot them there.

He wasn’t really paying attention while sitting in the dark room, leaning forward on his cane, looking at the TV, but not watching what was on air.

All he could see was Hannah jumping over the bed their patient lay in, OVER the bed, from the spot she had been standing. Attacking a guy at the other end of the room who was aiming a gun at him. He still could hear the bones of this guy crack when she already had turned to the next one, ripping his rifle out of his hand and beating the thing over his head with a force that sent him into the next wall.

Third guy was aiming at her, and he really thought “That’s it.”

Poor guy hadn’t even the time to pull the trigger when the whole room disappeared in a blinding ray of light.

Blinking his eyes repeatedly he finally saw the blurry vision of a guy falling to the floor with a hole in his body where his stomach had been and Hannah, with one hand lifted up in front of her.

“What did you do?” he heard himself ask, but she disappeared through the door.

Some minutes later everything was over.

“You’ll accustom”, a deep voice said and he looked up from the TV, seeing Rabb stand in the hallway to the living room.

“’s easy for you to say. You knew your wife was an alien…”

“Yeah. I knew when she drilled her arm into an iraqi, firing one of these energy balls at another one while her arm was still in the guy”, the lawyer answered, his eyes focused on him.

House frowned at Harm while he sat down next to him, leaning back on the couch.

“Ouch.”

“Not what I thought. I just wanted to run away screaming. Even more when she blew the house up. You don’t see your partner go blonde and fire electricity at a hazienda every day. What scared me most was that she turned around before this thing even hit the house, looking at me kinda bored while she climbed into the helicopter.”

House stored away this information, intending to ask Hannah…

“Still you knew before you did her”, he then said. The ex-pilot sighed.

“If I had known she had killed only 10 minutes before she came to me, I wouldn’t have… done… her. I’m sure, agent Gibbs is still looking for this terrorist…”

House looked at the JAG a little confused.

“So… your wife doesn’t have a problem with killing, I assume…”

The man didn’t even hestitate with an answer.

“Unfortunately, no. What you have to learn is that this is their temper. They extinguish everything that’s unnerving them. She scared the shit out of me more than once, but I learned that she never would hurt anyone unintentionally. When she’s pissed off, then you have a problem. Still, with the ones they like it only ends with screaming and some laserlike glares.”

The lawyer looked at his TV for a while, obviously thinking about the times his wife had scared him, then turned to watch the diagnostician again.

“You’ll get accustomed to it. If you love her…”

“I do! But she could have told me… that…”, House snapped louder than necessary while dragging his Vicodin-tube out of his pocket. Dryswallowing two of the pills he started thumping his cane to the floor. The lawyer looked at him patiently.

“When should she have done that? _Oh, and by the way, darling, I’m an alien_?” Rabb asked loudly, leaning his ellbows on his knees. House sighed, crunching a crumb of his pill between his teeth while thinking. The voice of his couch-companion got soft again, quietly continuing his speech.

“You have to learn one thing about Sayajins: they may be stronger and have a preference to solve things with violence, but other than that they are humanoids, even primates like we are, with feelings, problems, and I believe Hannah’s up in the bedroom asking herself what she did and if she scared you away.”

House watched the lawyer for a while.

“How do you manage?” he suddenly asked.

“How did you…?”

Rabb looked at him, revealing a pair of grey-blue eyes… he had noticed that most of the partners of Hannah’s sibblings had a blueish eyecolor… that reminded him of his conversation with her father when she had been in coma…

Rabb interrupted his thought.

“Fall in love with her?”

House nodded.

“I’d have stayed away from her when I’d found out something like that…”

“She saved my life twice before I even knew. I got on her nerves by wanting to save her from everything, everywhere… And I wanted to run, stay away. I just couldn’t. We were back to normal before we even knew.”

“Just like that?”

The lawyer tilted his head to one side.

“Ah… okay, no. I had an affair with a subordinate, was mad at everyone and everything when the subordinate dumped me, and Cara was the only one with the balls to face me. Telling me to get a whore if I was missing the sex that much instead of going on her nerves.”

“Sounds like someone I know… Yet I wouldn’t have fallen for her after telling me to get a hooker. Uh… now I know why the thing with me and Wilson never worked…”, the doctor snarrled sarcastically, his remark being ignored by the sailor.

“I think I had fallen for her long before that. I’m just a bit slow recognizing something like that”, Harm admitted. House did him the favor and grinned.

“And then I find myself all jealous of DiNozzo because he knows her since she can blink an eye and she’s helping him. I looked forward to the NATO dance, taking her out for the first time, even if it was job issues. I never thought I would get shot that day, and I hoped she would stay with me…”

“She rather went to find the shooter?” House asked. This guy’s life was more screwed up than anyone else’s he’d ever met.

“No. She stayed with me until they moved me into surgery. Then she sat out in the hall until her temper and the Admiral took over. Chegwidden waited for me while she went hunting.”

“Your boss just let her go?”

“My boss knew better than to be in the way of a Saiyajin with a mission, even though he didn’t know she was doing this for the man she loved rather than her partner.”

At that Rabb started to smile and House threw him a confused look.

“I’d still like to see Gibbs’ face when she marched into his office, her dress still stained with my blood, demanding to know where the bastard was who did that to me.”

“And you rewarded her with a little hanky panky?”

Harm frowned, then seemed to remind himself who was talking to him there.

“She told me she didn’t want to wait anymore. I couldn’t say anything against ‘ _Life’s too short to wait until everything fits for us_ ’. I didn’t want to say something against that.”

House leaned back on the couch. He didn’t believe that it was that easy do digest everything he had seen, even though he was pretty sure that Hannah’s sister was way more brutal while being an alien.

“Would you have married her if you hadn’t become her boss?” he asked casually, his mind drifting back to the wedding.

“I… don’t know… all I know is that right now I couldn’t be any happier. I always thought I would end up alone with a black adress book after…”, he swallowed hard once, leading the diagnostician to the assumption there had been another woman who had caused more hurt than the sailor would want to admit.

“She didn’t meddle in my life and still became my friend. She didn’t urge me into anything and still became a part of my life. She’s eating ridiculous amounts of ketchup, keeps stealing the cheese out of my greek salad, is afraid of spiders and lets me mock her because of it, and she’s wearing my t-shirts in bed…”

“Not to forget the bun in her oven… you’re totally whipped, man”, House smiled sadly, the other man smiling back at him.

“Yeah, I know. You’ll get back to that eventually, you’ll see. Hannah’s not Cara. She has broken with the military. She’s done that because she had to. Because she saw no other way to save all of you.”

“I know that. My brain on the other hand thinks it has to bother me with it.”

“You’ll manage, you’ll see.”

 

***

 

“Pizza’s ready. And I didn’t manage to burn it!” Hannah announced, walking from the kitchen into the living room with the food, two bottles of beer and his cane hooked on her arm. He blinked a little confused about the fact he’d been sitting here that long, musing.

“What? No mocking me?” She sat down next to him, handing him one of the bottles while he started to frown at her.

“Nah… you might burn me instead”, he then said, regretting it when he saw her face fall.

“Jeez, Hannah! That was a joke. Get used to me mocking you being an alien!” House exclaimed, shaking his head at her.

She grabbed a slice of their food, obviously thinking about what he had said.

“I think I should, shouldn’t I?”

“Yep. ‘Cause I’ll mock you for the rest of our lives, you know”, he declared, grabbing himself a slice and taking a bite.

“You what?” First he wasn’t talking to her for two weeks and then he was getting everything right in half an hour? Just like that?

“I came to the conclusion that I want to keep you. Includes the mocking”, House said with his mouth full, watching her get more and more confused.

“Keep me…?”

He studied her intently, how her black eyes looked at him questioningly, totally lost.

“Yah. Marry me.”


	3. Covered in cowardice.

“What?!”

House just looked at her, how she tried to make sense of his last two words, standing in the room, so unrelated to everything they had talked about in the last few minutes, the last few hours, after all went right to hell.

“I think the common answer to a question like that is yes, and not ‘What?”, House mocked, his gaze never leaving her.

She just continued holding the halfeaten slice of pizza in her hands, her mouth slightly agape, her brain obviously working overtime.

“A few hours ago your refused to talk to me, you were afraid of me, we didn’t even have a chance to work this out and you’re asking me…?”

“To marry me”, he repeated.

At least she hadn’t said no. Yet.

Instead she said: “Why?”

“There will be a real New Jersey law thing”, he said, picking up his bottle of beer and taking a sip while watching her look at him like he had grown a second head.

“Honestly, this is no joke. I want the right order.”

“Right order”, she echoed.

“Affair, marriage, knock you up”, he explained. He had no clue why recently this was so important to him (I know, hehe…). But since he just felt a little confused and not upset… well, go for it.

Her eyes were still narrow, the steep furrow present on her forehead.

“You’re forgetting something.”

“And that would be?”

“Uhm… until a few hours ago you refused to talk to me, were afraid of me and we haven’t even really talked about me being an alien with the ability to blow earth into pieces.”

He put the bottle back on the table.

“You’ve been this alien even before. Except for the little detail that I now know about your dirty little secret nothing’s changed.”

Her expression had not changed until now, she just was staring at him.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why can’t I? I’m sitting here, have only had four Vicodin…”

“Seven”, she interrupted him, putting her halfeaten slice down on the plate. House made a face.

“Okay, seven Vicodin, so I’m totally conscious. And I’m asking you to become my wife before we create the next generation. All you have to do is say yes.”

Her expression had changed from confused to unbelieving to serious now.

“This is happening too fast. You can’t drop a bomb like that after just having found out…!”

This time it was him who furrowed his forehead in anger.

“Why? Why can’t I do that?”

This wasn’t going the way he had planned it.

Okay, actually he hadn’t really planned on proposing anytime soon.

The words just came out of his mouth, without the urge to take them back.

And he had expected her to yell yes, throw herself into his arms and forget about the pizza, just like she had when he had asked her to move in with him.

She just looked at him with a glare similar to his.

“Because I truly believe that you mean it. And two weeks ago I would have…”

Stopping herself she looked at her hands before she got up.

“You can’t ask me something like that right now, Greg!”

Grabbing his cane he stood up, too, staring down at her.

“Why?” he asked firmly. He wanted to get everything right, wanted to show her that he loved her for everything she was and now she was dumping him like that.

“Because you can’t just shove away what happened like nothing happened. Not now. I killed people and you are acting like it doesn’t matter anymore. Out of sight, out of mind. You should be afraid. You should stay away from me. Run away. Yell at me. Curiously ask me all sorts of things…”

“I asked you one thing and still don’t have an answer”, was his calm reply.

“Greg…”

“Yes or no?! How hard can that be!?!” he snapped, his cane banging on the coffeetable.

He expected a deer – in – the – headlights – gaze, but she just turned around, leaving the room and the building without even putting her shoes back on.

“Who’s running now?” he asked into the empty room, before sitting down again, staring at their food. Suddenly not hungry anymore he got up again, slightly grimacing when he put his right foot on the floor, before heading towards the bedroom.

 

***

 

Sleep didn’t come easily to him, still secretly listening for the door to his home to open, for her to enter their home again, climb into their bed and…

Uh… well, okay, for reconceiling sex they had to make up, but for that she had to be there, and he was seeing it as a good sign that he was looking forward to the reconceiling without being nervous about it.

At least he told himself that he had nothing to be nervous about.

In fact, nothing HAD changed except for him knowing now, hadn’t it?

Seeing the numbers of his alarmclock jump in rather big intervalls at least he knew he got some sleep, dozing off now and then, yet still tossing and turning while trying to get comfortable.

Finally sighing at the futile attempt to find any position that could match him on his back, snoring softly while her head was on his shoulder he pushed his feet out onto the comforting coolness of the wooden floor in his bedroom, his fingers curling around the handle of his cane before starting for the kitchen to get a little midnight snack.

He almost didn’t see the person sitting on on the leather couch, feet crossed, arms resting in the gap between them when he proceeded to get his growling stomach filled. It was when she turned her head at his his uneven gait that he noticed her and stopped.

“I didn’t hear you come back”, House said silently, watching her turning away from him.

“You were sleeping for a while. Does your leg hurt?”

His steel blue eyes tried to burn holes into the back of her head when he willed her to turn around to him again, but she just stared at the dark TV.

“Can’t you tell?”

She didn’t answer that, just stared on.

House ran a hand over his face.

“I can’t believe we’re arguing over a marriage proposal!”

At that he could see her shoulders tense.

“I’m not arguing. It’s just too early… it’s too much for me right now, can’t you understand that?”

No, he couldn’t. He’d always been impatient, wanting what he wanted when he wanted it.

“You could just say yes. It’s not that much.”

The woman in front of him sighed again.

“Greg. It’s just not the right time now… I need to fix some things, even if you think that ignoring everything is the best solution.”

He thumped his cane to the floor a few times before proceeding to head towards the kitchen

“Life’s too short to wait until everything fits for us”, he said over his shoulder, feeling her glance on his back while he reached for the cold remanents of their dinner in the fridge.

She was still on the spot on the couch, not having moved an inch while he had devoured the cold pizza, knowing that he was farer away from being able to sleep than before.

“Come to bed”, he said, letting the issue drop for the moment.

Her black gaze caught his eyes, before she rose and followed him into the bedroom.

“I’ll ask you again, you know?” he said before closing the door behind them.

 

***

 

It had not been like he had thought it would be.

Instead of going back to normal she had stayed at her side of the bed.

And he couldn’t get himself to scoot over, no matter how often he told himself that nothing had changed.

He knew she was awake just like he was, and it would have been easy to start a conversation, to fix some things.

They were both cowards he decided, turning to his side while listening to her breath getting slower when dawn crept through the blinds of his windows and he knew that sleep was no more an option for him.

When he got out of bed he kept the tattletale rattle of his pills low, trying not to wake her. After all she deserved her sleep.

Keeping his eyes on her he even managed to dress himself silently before heading out, letting the cool air of the morning linger around him while he pulled on his leather jacket, his gloves and the helmet before starting his bike.

 

***

 

“House?”

Her surprised voice let the diagnostician turn around from his favourite nurse to his boss.

“Dr. Cuddy. What can I do for you so early in the morning? Male hooker kicked you out?”

The dean of PPTH rolled her eyes on her admittedly best doctor while letting her shoulders fall.

“Actually I just wanted to know what you are doing here at all… I told you to take as much time as you need to…”

“And what exactly would I do while this ‘as much time as I need’? You know, ‘s not the first time I have to face down a gun”, he growled, turning around again, to grab another file. The first cold  this morning had turned out to be a guy cheating on his wife and now thinking he had the clap, while the other one was a twenty something student not knowing the guy she woke up with the day before – disguised as, guess what, a cold.

“House…”

There she was with this soft voice again, sending chills and whatever down his spine, making him clench even more.

“I’m okay… At least I think I will be”, he said, disappearing into exam room one with his chart while Cuddy and nurse Darla exchanged confused looks.

“How can I help you this beautiful morning?” he asked the afro-american man inside the exam room, while never really looking at him, but staring at the chart. Please, not another…

“I told the nurse that I have a runny nose… but… I don’t. I think, uh, I have… syphilis or… gonorrhea.”

House just rolled his eyes, before turning to a glove dispenser.

 

***

 

She was actually surprised to find him gone when she woke up, and then frowned at the alarm clock, still showing numbers of the early morning, while trying to find out when exactly she had fallen asleep. Tiredly Hannah climbed out of their bed, slightly smiling at the heap of his T-shirt and pajama pants on the floor in front of their wardrobe, one door still open.

This was so normal…

This was so him.

This was more him than what she had heard the day before.

She just wasn’t getting it.

Why all of a sudden would he want to marry her?

Especially now?

Especially when she had never pictured herself BEING married sometime…

Never picturing him the kind of guy who would want that.

Looking around in her empty bedroom she decided not to think in that way right now. It was hard enough to untangle the ‘What if’s’ and ‘If I only had’s’ from each other, so the synchronised screaming of ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ in her head were rather disturbing.

Changing into a business outfit she decided she just as well could go to work.

At least there would be some interesting, non-marriage-related stuff.

 

***

 

Allison Cameron showed out a mother with her kid who had the cold, gritting her teeth at the mother’s question for antibiotics. Grabbing the next file, a blonde woman answered to the name she called out, following her into exam room three.

“I think I have an STD”, the woman told her.

 

***

 

Robert Chase was helping out in NICU again. He had seen his female colleague walk in about the same time he came here, not able to sleep, after two weeks still too shaken with what had happened and knowing nothing else to do than go to work, make other people better. The baby in front of him was breathing just fine now, bandages covering a great part of the small body, the mother he didn’t care where they had brought her to. Someone who was trying to kill her own baby by stuffing it in the washing machine should get as far away from him as possible right now.

 

***

 

Hannah McLachlan had tried to work in her lab and found out that her assistant had done everything she could even think of the current experiments, so she went down to the clinic, working off some of her hours. Just as House she not really was a friend of wiping runny noses, skipping some of the hours. Cuddy had looked at her as if it was Greg’s bad influence, and didn’t quite believe she was skipping them because the people… humans… sometimes annoyed her.

And right now she was really annoyed by the elderly lady in front of her, pointing downwards to her crotch.

“I think I have a…”

 

***

 

Lisa Cuddy had a watchful eye on her free clinic, where House already was doing way more than his two hours weekly, Allison Cameron was seeing one patient after the other and Dr. McLachlan had actually a higher rate at diagnosing and throwing them out than House.

She only had heard a small amount of what had happened in London, about all of them being held hostage in the hospital and the terrorists getting killed somehow.

Actually, she didn’t know if she wanted to know more than that. All of them seemed to be quite collected, throwing themselves into work on the other hand meant that they weren’t.

She still was thinking about convincing them to talk to somebody about their experiences when House burst out of his exam room, holding something at armlength away from his body with a really disgusted expression on his face.

She was on her feet when he dropped it on the nurse’s counter, had almost reached him, when he actually started to adress the people that were still waiting in the waiting area. Briefly she wondered how there still could be that many at the rate her doctors were throwing them out.

“Who of you is here for a runny nose?!” the diagnostician snarled, and she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes on the fact that some people in fact raised their hands.

House leaned himself on his cane, growling at them.

“It’s a cold, for heaven’s sake! It’ll get better! GO HOME!”

It never ceased to surprise her that people did what he said. They actually got up and headed for the exit.

House on the other hand wasn’t done yet.

“Those of you who have stayed obviously don’t have a cold. You will be assigned a doctor that isn’t me, ‘cause I am tired of wiping crotches!”

She hadn’t even the chance to finish her tirade that started with “HOUSE!”, when one of the patients suddenly jumped up, clutching his head in his hands and started to run circles around the nurse’s station in agony, screaming “It hurts!” over and over, making the people look at him and doctor’s stick their heads out of exam rooms.

Nurse Darla (a.k.a. House’s favourite nurse) tried to catch him once and was forced to run another agony round behind him. Also Cuddy didn’t have much luck with stopping him.

When she looked at House he just leaned against the counter, his gaze following the guy, suddenly stopping.

While Cuddy still watched the nurse chase the man, House watched Hannah, who leaned against the doorframe of examroom two. Then his glance followed her’s.

Cameron stood in the door of exam room one, pale and wideeyed, still trying to catch her breath, and he didn’t need to guess why she was shocked. Locking his eye’s with Hannah again, she just gave him a shrug and a slightly tilted head that made him sigh.

When the guy started another lap, Cuddy stopped the nurse, before yelling over the noise the man was making.

“Call security!”

House just frowned, then headed towards the pharmacy. The pharmacist was also busy watching the circus right in front of him, but still smart enough to look at the diagnostician and think in his job lines.

“Should I get a sedative?”

“No, thanks, I’m good.”

Frowning about the misplaced humor the pharmacist nevertheless turned around to get said thing, never seeing the diagnostician reach over the counter for another syringe.

By the time he was back with the sedative House had already limped back to the nurses station and tripped the still screaming man with his cane, only to toss it towards the redhead doctor who had decided to leave the doorframe she’d been leaning on with crossed arms. Jabbing his knee into the ribs of the man House pulled the cap of the syringe off, injecting the clear fluid into the man.

The screaming stopped almost immediately.

When Cuddy kneeled down to check on him though she could see his face was still contorted.

Before she could ask anything, he called out: “I need a team here!”

“What did you do, House?”

The pharmacist chose this moment to appear on their side.

“I have the sedative.”

“A little late!” Cuddy growled at the man, while House just took the syringe, saying “Just in time.”

“What the hell did you give him?” she now questioned him.

“Paralytic”, was the monosyllabic (yeah, I know, it’s 4 syllables) answer, while his eyes briefly met Hannah’s dark glance.

“Why would you do that?” Cuddy asked, frowning at him.

“He is still in pain!”

“Somebody had to stop the screaming”, House told her matter of factly, while watching his strangers mouth curl upwards slightly.

“He is still in pain!” Cuddy repeated, trying to find a reason for what he had done.

“Yeah. But quietly”, the diagnostician answered, injecting the sedative just as the team with the stretcher arrived.

“Paralytic’s stopped him breathing. He goes hypoxic, he’s going to be quiet forever”, he told them, before awkwardly getting up and limping out of their way.

Hannah stepped up to him, handing him his cane.

“You okay?” she silently asked, keeping her eyes on the emergency medics working on the guy.

House didn’t make eye contact, too, but nodded a yes when Cuddy marched up to them, fuming.

“YOU GAVE…”

“I knocked him out before he could hurt anybody… sad thing is that in the pharmacy they only keep the paralytic within reach. Now, can I go, figure out what’s wrong with him?” he interrupted her coolly, not even waiting before limping away, nodding towards Cameron to follow him, almost painfully aware of Hannah’s presence next to him, heading towards the elevator.

 

***

 

“Okay. Pain in his right ear, psycotic behaviour and dizziness. Go ahead.”

Chase and Cameron watched him for some seconds, thinking about the symptomes, while Hannah once again leaned on a doorframe, this time to his office, having her arms crossed before her chest.

“The nurse said he was holding his head, how do you know it was specifically his ear?” the australian suddenly wanted to know.

“Because he was dizzy. Means the problem was affecting his inner ear.”

“He was running circles. Doesn’t mean he’s dizzy”, Cameron threw in, still a bit pale. Who would have bet on something like that on her first day of work after…

“He wasn’t running circles. He was running in oblongs. Looked like a four-year-old had drawn it”, House interrupted her thoughts.

“Accoustic neuroma that started haemorrhage”, Chase suggested.

“Explains the pain, vertigo, everything. Get an MRI.”

When his two ducklings just looked at each other and then started to leave, he sighed.

“What else?”

“What else what? If it explains everything…? Cameron wanted to know, narrowing her eyes on her boss.

“Might not explain everything.”

“What if he was psycotic first? Then self-mutilated, damaged the ear”, Chase offered, getting an affirmative nod.

“Excellent. Need a complete psycatric work-up.”

Once again the kids looked at each other, turning to leave when House adressed Cameron.

“Your turn.”

She hestitated long enough to tell him something definitely wasn’t right.

“I… uhm… wanted to say what Chase…”

“Well, then say something else.”

“Uh…” Opening the file he could practically see her think and had to stop himself from grinning.

“He came to the clinic…”

“Goooood…”

Her eyes briefly met his, then she continued.

“So… there’s a decent chance he’s had a chronic illness first, especially given the increased heartrate.”

While Chase and Hannah raised a skeptical eyebrow, House just made “Hmm.”

“Lingering ear infection. Pressure builds up in his inner ear, bursts through the mastoid bone while he’s waiting in the clinic.”

“Oh, yes! Get a head CT, draw a blood culture, run a chem panel, and get a complete blood count!” House ordered. This time the ducklings waited if he wanted to hear something else.

“You waiting for better weather? Go on!” he scowled, stopping himself from grinning when they stormed out of his office while he turned around to finally sit down on his chair.

“You are a softie”, a female voice behind him stated softly.

“Huh?”

Finally falling down on his chair he started to massage his thigh while Hannah closed up to him.

“You know you can’t help Cameron face what she experienced by keeping her busy…”

“I’m not keeping her busy, she’s trying to save the life…”

“Greg… every other time you would have pulled this stunt, waiting for them to be almost out of your office and then say ‘Oh, and while you’re at it, pour some alcohol into his ear and take out the cockroach.’”

“You know…” He stared at her briefly, then sighed.

“Of course you know. Question is: Why didn’t you say something?”

Her black eyes rested on him longer than she actually wanted to.

“I’ve been in the clinic for three hours already”, she then said, turning around and also leavning his office.


	4. Small steps.

“Who would have thought Cameron could yell that loud?” House shrugged off his button down shirt, adding it to the heap that was still in front of his wardrobe from the morning.

“Who would have thought she would yell at me instead of you?” Hannah opened her blouse, draping it over a chair in the bedroom, watching House step out of his jeans.

“YOU didn’t tell her it was a cockroach”, she then added.

“Well, I can’t know everything, despite what everyone in this clinic seems to think… And you didn’t tell her either.” House collected his pajama pants from the floor and marched to the bed, sitting down.

“And how should I explain my advice to look into the man’s ear? You at least tripped him and had the chance to take a peek.” Opening the drawer with his T-shirts the neurologist sighed before taking one out and pulling it over her head.

“You didn’t have to advice that, it was what she did first.” House grinned at her, putting his pants on before scurrying under the blanket, crossing his arms behind his head.

“I know, I heard the scream”, she laughed, turning around to him, frowning a bit when his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Are you okay, Greg?”

“I told you yes when Cameron ran me over, when this bald chemo kid of Wilson tried to jump me today and when Cuddy…”

“I know what happened today, thank you, I was in this psych-ward. Are you in pain?” she asked more firmly, seeing him scrutinize her even more.

“You can’t tell?”

“Reading your aura isn’t exactly the best way to tell…”

“I’m fine, jeez, unclench. I just thought I wanted to do what the shirt says”, House interrupted her, giving her a mean grin about her agitated behaviour. His blue eyes followed her gaze downwards on herself, seeing the four telltale letters.

“You…”

“Stop overanalyzing everything! The whole afternoon and evening I diagnosed a bunch of cancer kids who just overate themselves with chocolate… and it’s in the middle of the night. Come here!” he ordered, watching her tilt her head, before making a few steps to his side of the bed. When she stopped, he sighed.

“That’s too far away, you know.”

“Don’t ask me again today”, was her cryptic answer to this sentence, and when he finally understood what she meant he just nodded.

“You’re off the hook today.”

She tentatively made the last steps to his side and he caught her off guard when his arms shot out from under his head, grabbing her wrists and pulling her onto his lap. He claimed her lips before she could even protest.

“And don’t even try to complain, you’re the one with the T-shirt here”, he said against her mouth, growling a bit when she broke contact long enough to look again at what was written on her chest.

He was surprised when she threw her head back, laughing.

KISS.

“If I’d known you only react that promptly to written orders…”

He stole another peck before frowning at her.

“Written orders?”

She just pointed to his shirt she was wearing.

“Do what the shirt says…”

He gladly obeyed, but stopped her hand that was sneaking under his shirt with out even thinking about it. When she broke contact again he realized what he had done.

“I’m sorry…”

She rested her head against his shoulder.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

House sighed.

“But I shouldn’t react like this. Nothing has changed. You are still the same person!”

A silent voice against his chest said “But you are not.”

“Han…”

“Just give us some time, okay? Don’t rush things. Right now I feel good where I am.”

“Hannah…”

“Just do, what the shirt says…” she smiled, lifting her head and brushing her lips over his mouth softly, making him kiss her back.

 

***

 

Again he wasn’t really successful with his task to fall asleep finally, his fingers curling around her shoulder, his nose burried in her hair. At least he didn’t want to jump out of the embrace… Kissing the top of her head he closed his arms around her, drawing her towards his body.

“It’s getting better, isn’t it?” a tiny voice asked against his shoulder, making him look at her in surprise.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I can practically hear the thoughts running through your head… tell me, it’s getting better, Greg…”, she pleaded, shattering his image of the ruthless warrior a bit more.

“It’s getting better. Just look at us…”

Her head snuggled back against his shoulder and he sighed. At least they were back to body contact.

At least he knew he would get some sleep this night eventually.

_Just look at us…_

She still could feel the tension in his body, could feel the battle of fight or flight in his veins.

Just look at us.

What happened to the couple that took that shower together without even knowing each other’s name?

What happened to the trust he had in her? Would she ever earn it back? Could one compare what she had done to what Stacy had done to lose it? Wasn’t it even worse that she had not trusted him enough to…

“Stop it”, he said in a rough voice, making her lift her head.

“I can hear you thinking, stop it!”

“I’m sorry…”

His eyes glowed in the darkness of the room, looking at her and she almost could feel the frown.

“Stop that, too. You don’t have to apologize for everything from now on.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. You had the right to know, and you shouldn’t have found out this way. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you enough…”

They both were silent for a while, until House finally sighed.

“You would have told me…”

“Of course! I mean, we talked about a child, and you…” she interrupted him. House cut her off.

“You would have told me when you were ready, and those bastards stole that from you. It’s not your fault I had to find out like that. And I understand you had to keep that a secret.”

Instead of giving him an answer she burried her head against his shoulder again, closing her arms around him.

He thought she’d fallen asleep, closing his eyes, too, when she adressed him once more.

“I missed that.”

“What? Sensitive me? Being totally insightful and wussy?”

To his surprise she laughed a little, her body shaking in his arms.

“No, though sometimes I like sensitive you. I meant sleeping in each other’s arms. Can’t sleep without my teddybear.”

He kissed her forehead once more.

“Can’t sleep without my teddybear”, he repeated while closing his arms around her even tighter.

 

***

 

She was in the lab again, running tests. Then it was loud, men ran in the lab, aiming weapons at her, dragging her with them into a room. Chase was there, they had hit him, one of them was asking him in broken english where their patient was.

He didn’t tell them. Hell, he didn’t know it, like she had no idea in which room House had taken him. Or did she know? She didn’t remember… maybe a gun pointed at you made you forget things instead of reminding you of them.

Then they left the room, leaving one guard with them.

Of course that had been a bad idea. Of course he had watched her closely, his eyes implying things she’d rather not think about. Of course he made a move and Chase tried to stop him.

It was stupid as hell, because now they had a pissed off terrorist with a gun kill him, then rape and kill her.

While the two men were still struggling with each other she found the syringe… and loaded it.

Rammed it into the guy’s neck and watched him look at her in surprise… losing control over his body and collapse… and suddenly his eyes were empty and cold.

 

Almost jumping out of her bed Cameron woke from her nightmare, staring at her alarm clock. She had fallen asleep only 10 minutes ago and no desire to do it again.

 

***

 

He was not surprised to see her park her car next to his.

“Nighmares?” was the only thing he needed to say, her eyes locking briefly with his, before walking next to him into the hospital.

“Do you think life will be normal ever again?” she asked when they reached the locker rooms.

“I hope so. I don’t want to spend the rest of my days in clinic and the rest of my nights in ER.”

Robert Chase watched his female colleague disappear in the room to change and stared at the door for a while.

He desperately hoped he would never again jump out of his bed and take cover just because of a backfiring car…

 

***

 

Being woken by being kissed was definitely a pro of having a relationship.

He opened his eyes, still sleepy and lazily kissed her back, his fingers losing themselves in her soft auburn hair.

“You still an alien?” he asked against her lips, curling them upwards when she didn’t stop.

“Yep. You still afraid of me?”

“ME? I ain’t afraid of anything, Ma’am”, he exclaimed, feeling her slim hands on his chest press his body down on the mattress.

“If you call me Ma’am one more time I’ll give you a reason to be afraid, baby…”, she said against his lips, while the man in her arms started to laugh and closed his arms around her back.

“Okay, now I know it’s meant to be…”

“Huh?”

He shifted in her arms until he could see her face in the dim light of dawn.

“You just called me baby and I didn’t mind at all…”

She watched him thoughtfully.

“Yeah… I guess, I did.”

“I think I should come up with a pet name for you, too…”

“You already have Honey, baby, Babe, Darling and Han. I think that’s enough…”

“Soooo… No way you let me call you Ma’am?”

“Only when I make you salute before me”, she grinned while he looked at her wideeyed.

 

***

 

Looking at his ducklings made him frown.

They looked tired and exhausted – the fact, that he really cared this time made him frown again.

Throwing down three files on the table his breath caught when he realized he had also gotten a copy for Cramer.

So, maybe it was not back to normal again this fast…

Sighing he watched his fellows grab the files and open them.

“Sixteen year old with respiratory arrest, no signs of trauma, no history of asthma or allergies. EKG and echo were normal”, he started, watching them work themselves into the history he had so far. Not that he took it himself. Most of it was from ER.

“ER workup revealed a bloody pleural effusion”, House continued, seeing both Cameron and Chase frown.

“What? You don’t think that’s odd?” he asked, getting confused looks.

“Ah… of course I think that is odd. He passed out while making out. If he’s into sex, drugs and rock’n roll can’t be that far behind. My guess is cocain…”, Chase offered with Cameron shaking her head.

“No, tox screen was clear… though that could also mean he wasn’t on drugs, not, that he’s not using them…”

House proceeded looking at them for some seconds before putting a CT-scan on the lightboard.

“No tumors or pneumonia. Looks more like a plumbing problem to me. Leaky pipes.”

“If he popped an aneurysm, he’d be in the morgue, not the ER”, Chase countered with Cameron next to him nodding. House again furrowed his forehead at the reaction of his ducklings.

“This is why you are going to do a venogram instead of an arteriogram. This isn’t a high pressure burst, this is a low pressure leak.”

“Still could be drugs that cause the pipes to corrode in first place”, Chase shared his metaphor, again with Cameron nodding in approval. Narrowing his eyes House watched them get up.

“So go look under his mattress… See if he’s got any pills or powders stashed under there…”

Again he got an unisono nod before they disappeared with him staring at their backs.

 

***

 

When they came to update him on their results it was Chase who looked a bit pale, while Cameron looked pissed.

“Okay. What the hell is wrong with you two?” he asked loudly making both of them jerk.

“Uhm… venogram’s negative, no leak”, Cameron offered, making House growl.

“You mean you couldn’t find the leak. And I didn’t mean little Mikey…”

“Stevie!” he was interrupted by both of his ducklings.

“I don’t care. What’s…”

“Our history is worth nothing!” Cameron exclaimed, before he could rant on.

“Adress was wrong, phone number he made up. There was no leak. We ruled out toxins and drugs, but…”

“Blood is made inside the circulatory system, if you find it outside…”, House started, but was cut off again

“There is no leak! I even checked the lymphatics. He’s a Romany and is keeping everything secret! It’s hard to know anything for sure”, his female duckling snapped.

“Oh… no gadje allowed then…”, House said thoughtfully to himself, only realizing that his fellows had gone silent at that remark when he looked up.

“He’s a human being which means you shouldn’t be trusting him to begin with. Stop relying on his answers and find some on your own.”

“Deep vein thrombosis. And what the heck is a gadje?” Chase piped up, his accent a bit thicker than usual.

“It means outsider”, House explained while asking in the same breath “Why deep vein thrombosis?”

“Kid spent 16 hours in the backseat of a pick up truck. Causes a clot and makes its way to his lungs. We should do an arteriogram and find the clot and bust it with TPA.”

House scrutinized him before snarling “Or we should find the leak.”

“There IS NO leak!” Cameron exclaimed, actually shocking him a bit.

“Hey! You can’t yell at a cripple! It’s a slow leak. You gotta speed it up. Thin his blood, redo the venogram”, he answered, ignoring the apologizing look his immunologist sent him, while Chase shook his head.

“That could cause a massive bleed.”

House tilted his head at him.

“Excellent. Massive will be even easier to find. Cameron, get him ready. Chase, you come with me.”

 

***

 

His specialist for intensive care actually showed him the deer-in-the-headlighs-look (grr… these animals are so stupid! Why jump into a field, when it can jump in front of a car? I never before hit the brakes this hard, and I don’t care that the car almost was standing when I hit this stupid beast. I’m just glad there’s no bump on the car!) when he sat down in front of his desk, immediately grabbing the big tennis ball.

“Okay. Once more. What the hell is wrong with the two of you?”

“Why should there be anything wrong with us?”

“Well… the two of you agreeing with each other for example. Looking like you didn’t sleep last night and the night before… Cameron yelling at me… you sleeping with her again?” House asked, watching his duckling roll his eyes.

“No.”

The diagnostician stared at him, apparently waiting for something more.

“Are you still having nighmares?” he then asked, seeing the answer in his Aussie fellow’s eyes before the younger man could say a word.

“You don’t?” Chase asked back.

Opening his mouth he was about to reply but then changed his mind.

“Why didn’t you say something? There’s people who can help you.”

“I don’t want to talk to a shrink. I’ll manage.”

“By refusing to sleep and working yourself to death in the ER? You know, people want healthy doctors, not pale ones… or exhausted. For your next mistake I probably can’t take the blame.”

“I never asked you to…”

“You know what I mean. Do you need some days off?”

He could see the younger man consider this option and then shake his head.

“I’ll just sit at home with nothing else to do but think what if… But if you could cut the B&E to a minimum, I’d be rather grateful.”

“I didn’t order any B&E…”, House replied with a confused expression on his face, making Chase sigh.

“Yeah… nevertheless I went to check out the address Stevie gave us. Ran into a couple, the woman yelling at me she had a gun, the guy trying to tell me where his wallet was.”

Okay. That explained almost everything.

“No more recon for any of you.”

 

***

 

It was maybe the second time he managed to surprise her and that told him that nothing was back to normal as fast as he had hoped it would be.

At least they were making small steps towards that condition.

“When will this stop?” he asked, seeing her frown.

“When will what stop?”

“When will the four of us get to a point where we accept that it was not our fault that these terrorists held us hostage in this hospital? That all of us did what was necessary? When will the nightmares stop?”

“You are still having nightmares?” she asked, her big black eyes studying him.

“You don’t?” he asked back, and watched her avert her eyes.

“I’m worried about Chase and Cameron. I made three copies of the file for the current puzzle… I feel… so odd.”

All she did was stand up from her chair behind her desk and approach him, invading his personal space.

This time he didn’t back away.

“Give us time.”

Just as he leaned in there was a loud knock on her office door, before Cameron and Chase walked in.

“How the hell…?” House started, once again being interrupted by his female fellow.

“Where else would you be. The kid’s liver is failing because of massive clots blocking his hepatic vein. How can he have both a bleed and a clot?!”

The diagnostician narrowed his eyes on her.

“It’s not a clot. You must have blocked the vein with a catheter wire.”

“Not a chance”, Cameron snapped, her hands stuffed into her lab coat.

“Increased pressure downstream could also stop the blood”, Hannah offered, not knowing anything about his current case, but this was her office, so she had an opinion, too.

Chase shook his head.

“There’s no heart failure or cirrhosis. Means it has to be a clot.”

“Massive clots block veins, they don’t leak. Any other theories?”

“DIC”, his immunologist offered, which he shot down with a “Platelets are normal, PCT isn’t elevated.”

“Uh… leukemia”, Chase added, seeing House make a face at him.

“Normal CBC and…differential? You guys are still thinking like doctors when you should be thinking like plumbers. Come on, I wanna see some butt crack. Something inside the liver is punching holes in the pipes. Blood bleeds through the openings, sticks to the intruder, forms a mass.”

“So… a clot?” Chase asked and House growled.

Hannah sighed. Some things at least never changed. And if it was only him getting impatient when his ducklings took too long with coming up with a diagnose.

“A mass. Like cancer. A tumor could erode the the blood vessels from what I heard of the case just now. Maybe also a granuloma from tuberculosis or sarcoidosis.” Getting a confused look from the diagnostician and his fellows she shrugged her shoulders.

“Just trying to help.”

House sighed, before turning to his ducklings again.

“Do a CT, MRI, sputum and ACE-level. Then go home. No more night shifts in ER!”


	5. Paint it black.

Stevie's parents had looked at her as if they wanted to burn her any minute. She understood why House had voluteered her and himself (currently sitting in his office, playing his gameboy) to watch the treatment against Wegener’s. What she didn’t understand was why the young gypsy sat on his bed in his street clothes, eating soup.

“What’s it with the clothes? You’re not getting discharged.”

Even the boy looked at her somewhat frightened. She tried to rack her brain if Romanys liked redhaired women or treated them like witches, but didn’t find any information about that.

“It’s my parents… they insist I wear this stuff”, Stevie explained.

“We insist on our own gowns, food and furnishings for a reason”, Hannah explained, taking away the bowl and throwing it into a trash can.

“My chest burns. Are you sure the treatment is working?” the boy asked.

“Wegener’s causes the body to attack itself. It doesn’t get undone overnight. Be patient, okay?”

The boy nodded when his mother entered the room, immediately walking up to the bed, unfolding a blanked that had been on the footend.

“Where is your soup?!” she demanded to know, her glance wandering to the doctor who didn’t cave the slightest bit on her tone.

“In the garbage. And don’t even start with the willowbark extract. He’s on meds, and we can’t risk any adverse interactions. We need all this stuff to go to get an controlled environment.”

“So do we”, a deep voice behind her said.

“People get sick for a reason, because something in their life is out of balance”, the father tried to explain, his son throwing him a pleading look.

“Dad, she’s a doctor. She doesn’t want to hear you talk.”

“Balance is just starting to be restored, now that this girl is gone”, the mother continued, making Hannah remind herself of what she had memorized from the file.

“That girl took pretty good care of your son when he collapsed, while you were away.”

The mother opened her mouth again but was cut off by the father.

“How long is the treatment going to take?”

“His liver should be improving soon”, Hannah answered, getting critical looks from everywhere.

 

***

 

“Next time YOU are going in there. ‘Cause I’m getting cremated as soon as I make a step into their new home again.”

She was not sure he had heard her with the earplugs of his iPod in his ears, but he looked up from his gameboy, shaking his head when she moved to his office chair while he lounged in his yellow armchair.

“C’mere”, he said, extending his hand, pulling her onto his lap.

Kissing her lazily he got her to smile.

“Trying to shock the parents by making out with the redhead witch doctor?”

Again he shook his head.

“Getting back to normal.”

She looked at him for a while.

This was not normal. Sure, there had been a few times in the hospital, in the clinic or her office. But never in his office. They could sit in there, talk in there, but nothing more happened.

His office was his sanctuary and she respected that.

Loud yelling from outside stopped her from expressing it, though.

“Jeez… what the hell is wrong now? Does a great-great-grandmother have anything against the treatment?” she growled before getting up.

 

***

 

“Liver’s actually improving. We plug one hole and end up poking another. The treatment gave him a massive hemorrhage in his bladder”, Hannah sighed, falling down on one of his chairs. He watched her closely.

“You looked at him and don’t know what’s wrong?”

“Actually… yeah, I don’t know what’s wrong. Everything points to Wegener’s. Maybe it’s the wrong treatment. We could give him Methotrexate. Or something more intelligent. FT-28.”

“That’s not FDA approved. And knowing Romanys they will refuse to get experimented on. Drag out Auschwitz, et cetera.” House fell silent for a while, looking off into nothing, thinking.

“If you lie to them, you could lose your licence.”

“If I don’t he’ll die. And I have friends, you know…”, she replied, her voice fading.

He watched her for some seconds.

“You got mob connections, too?” he then grinned, making her smile in turn.

“Yeah, something along that lines. Trust me, I sure as hell won’t lose my approbation. And this is why I will lie to them and not you.”

 

***

 

Okay. Somehow this was getting really weird.

This kid really was sick, and she had not expected to be part in an emergency surgery to take out the kid’s spleen that practically exploded. Before she could start the treatment.

She saw a spleen with no granuloma which blew their Wegener’s theory. Running his bowel gave them no results.

And now she was sitting in his office, looking at him, feeling like one of his ducklings, having no clue what was wrong. All she knew was one thing.

“There’s no way his parents are going to let us near him ever again. At least they can’t transfer him until he’s recovered from the surgery.”

“You can add the surgical team to the people who won’t let us near him. Bleeds, clots, bleeds, clots, spleen explodes…”, he sighed, running a hand over his face. “Okay, what have we done until now?”

“It started in the lungs. CT, sputum, two venograms”, she answered, watching him dig around on his desk.

“What the hell are you doing there, Greg?”

“Looking for something to write on…”

“Ever thought about the paper in your printer?”

Throwing her a confused look he stopped shuffeling his stacks of paper from one edge of his desk to another and grabbed a piece of paper from his printer, starting to draw a human body chart.

“That’s one bleed, one clot. Then what?”

“Liver shut down, MRI, labs. Treatment with cyclophosphamide.”

“Whereupon he peed out three units of 0 negative. And a bleed.” Drawing another X on his body chart he looked at her expectantly.

“What’s next?”

“Bladder, kidney. High resolution CT scan and UA and urine sediment”, she answered without even thinking.

“You already memorized the file? Even I need more than some hours…”

She just shrugged, and he tilted his head at his picture in front of him.

“GI tract”, he then said.

“You ran the small bowel in the OR.”

“Large bowel is fixed to the abdominal wall, I didn’t run that.”

“Because there’s no reason to. As far as I know he’s not having any symptoms in his bowels.”

House still stared at his painting, eyes narrowed.

“We’ll do a colonoscopy.”

That got him a frown.

“Because he has no symptoms there?”

“You lose your keys, the first thing you do is look everywhere you might logically have placed them. When you don’t find them, then you start looking in other places – the medicine cabinet, freezer, mailbox. We need to look in this kid’s mailbox”, he explained, making her snort silently, before putting her hands on her hips.

“You know, we also could X-ray his feet, they are fine, too”, she then grinned, making him smile back.

“Now you sound like Cameron.”

“Oh, I’ll sound even more like her when I ask you how we get near the kid when the parents won’t let us near him.”

“You call one of the kiddies to help you, I let the parents yell at me. Should buy you about 20 minutes.”

When she didn’t jump up immediately he had to stop himself from treating her like his ducklings. Shoo them out, impatiently waiting for them to do what he ordered. She watched him shifting in his chair a bit amused.

“There anything else…?” he finally couldn’t help but ask, seeing her shake her head softly.

“I just realized that being the Mommy has advantages…”

“Like?”

“Not having to do colonoscopies in the middle of the night.”

 

***

 

“Toothpick?”

“Yeah.”

“Toothpick.”

“I believe I said yes already. He must have swallowed it accidentially and thought he’d digest it.”

“Toothpick.” By now House was shaking his head. Hannah just sighed and turned her head to watch Cameron and Chase talk to Stevie and his parents. She had disappeared when they had started blaming everything on the girlfriend again.

“Yep. And I finally understand why I couldn’t figure it out. How do you swallow a toothpick?”

“I have no idea.” Watching her slim figure in front of the glass walls of his office he leaned back in his chair behind his desk.

“You were good. Normally you trust your feeling when someone’s sick.”

“Couldn’t feel the toothpick. And you were the one that came up with the colonoscopy.”

“Just because it was in the middle of everything else. You were the ducklings all at once.” Again he shook his head. A simple toothpick. Something he had considered boring before she told him what actually had been wrong with the kid.

“Sure felt like one of them. And still it was your idea.”

When she turned around to him he had a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Greg?”

“You know, I like you being Mommy better, too…”

“Can’t be me objecting your sometimes crazy ideas…”

“We’re good together. Not only at work…”, he started, being cut off.

“We argue most of the time when we work together!”

At that he frowned at her. They hadn’t fought once about this case.

“And at home everything is so… silent… both of us always dancing around the…”

“I can’t dance”, he interrupted her, not really getting what she meant or tried to prove. She just turned around, looking somewhat flustered.

“Why are you so nice? You ever tell one of your ducklings that their brainstorming took you a step closer to solving the problem?”

“Well, I don’t want to marry my duck…”

She never gave him the chance to finish that sentence.

“I asked you not to bring this up again! Not when I have so many things to think about…”

“This is nothing to think about! If you have to think about it, then forget it!” was his growled answer, making her stare at him wideeyed before leaving the office.

 

***

 

His ducklings had stayed for the rest of the night, busying themselves again in the ER and he was mad at himself because he still cared enough to care what they did.

She… well, he assumed she had gone into her lab to hide there. To think… to…

Hell, her reaction confused him.

She didn’t even blink when he wanted to have a baby, but when he wanted to make her his wife she freaked.

How was saying ‘I do’ scarier than creating a new life???

Wilson found him sitting on the floor in front of his office, thumping his cane on the floor, resting his chin on his chest, deep in thought.

“How long are you sitting here already?” the oncologist asked his friend and caused him to look up.

“Don’t know… long enough to…” The diagnostician extended his hand and let Wilson pull him to his feet, wincing when he stretched the bad one.

“What happened? Are you alright?” Wilson scrutinized him out of the corner of his eye while he used his key to open the door to his office. He had had the urge to ask House everything about the incident in London the moment their plane had landed but told himself that his friend would come to him if he needed any help. If he was willing to accept any help.

“She got cold feet”, was House’s cryptic answer as he followed him into the room and fell down onto the ‘Bad news’ chair, leaving him a bit confused at his entrance door, frowning at his friend.

“Got cold feet in the sense of…?”

Leaning on his cane House turned his azzure blue gaze to him.

“I asked her to marry me.”

 

He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the diagnostician openmouthed, and he didn’t care that actually there had gathered some nurses in front of his open office door to see what the ‘scary’ Dr. House was up to this time.

Finally coming to his senses again, the oncologist closed the door behind him, shutting all of them out.

“You… you asked her to…?”

“Marry me. Yah. I assume you know how that’s done… unless it’s been three times the girl who asked you”, House mocked but got no reaction.

“You asked her to marry you”, Wilson repeated and sat down behind his desk. His friend just nodded sadly, looking down at his sneaker-clad feet.

“And she got cold feet? Said no?”

“She didn’t say no… actually she didn’t say yes either…”, House mused, starting the thumping again.

“What did she say then?”

“That she needs time… She’s throwing away birth control without thinking twice but when I ask her… how the hell did I screw up this time?!” House exclaimed, ramming his cane onto the floor that hard that Wilson could feel the shockwaves.

Wilson looked at him for quite a while before talking again, this time softly.

“I don’t think you screwed up…”

“You missed the argument before…”

“You just came out alife being held hostage. You can’t go back to normal just with a snap of your fingers. Maybe she thinks you just want to marry her because you came out alife. Maybe she wants to, but is still too shaken by what has happened to make it fit into her life right now. And knowing you you got impatient and yelled at her.”

“She yelled at me first… this time”, House pouted, making Wilson pull a face.

“And I don’t want to marry her just because I came out alife”, he added, averting his gaze to his cane again.

The oncologist stopped himself from asking “But?”, and chose to watch his friend for a while instead.

“Give her time. And try not to be you this time, pressuring her.”

When House got up from the chair and went to the door, his expression hadn’t really changed.

“I’m going to lose her…”


	6. Butterflies and Hurricanes.

He had not dared to visit her in her lab… well, obviously she was as much a coward as he was, warrior or not, else she would have come to see him.

Then Wilson came, the ducklings in tow, with a worried face and a file in his hands.

Still being busy with wallowing in selfpity he wanted to reject what ever his friend needed.

Then he thought about this coward thing again, and that maybe she had to come over for a consult… nobody had to be the first to go to the other one.

So he read the file.

Wrote 5 DAYS LEFT on his white board and waited for sugestions.

“We should start the donor brother on broad spectrum antibiotics”, Cameron said.

“Stool samples for parasites, antibody tests”, she continued, her nose still buried in the file. Chase shook his head.

“Blood panel was negative for all the usual suspects.”

House sighed.

“That's 'cause the infection is too small. We start testing now, it's like looking for a needle in a haystack. We draw blood, odds are we're just gonna come up with hay. We need to grow more needles.”

He got blank stares from three eye pairs as answer.

“Okay, that... probably needs further explanation. We make the donor kid sicker. We freeze him, we soak him, break down his immune system. Suddenly we're looking at some needle a camel can pass through the eye of.”

“Making him sicker risks spreading the infection all throughout his body!” Chase objected, once again having his female colleague next to him nodd in agreement. House rolled his eyes in annoyment.

“True, but who cares? Once we know what the infection is, we'll know exactly how to treat it. As long as he isn't dead yet, we're cool.”

Wilson hissed a “House!”, before sighing and crossing his arms before his chest.

“We should do what you normally do - Go to the kid's house, check for sources of infection…”

He didn’t notice the look Chase threw him behind his back. House on the other hand did with a quick side glance.

“Waste of time. You think it's in the house. I know it's in the patient. But if you want to be on the safe side… no one’s stopping you.”

His blue glance locked on his friend and noted the confusion.

“And then you talk them into the treatment. You know, they trust you and everything… just get a yes out of it and do it fast. The other kid has not that much time anymore.”

Wilson opened his mouth to say something but then overthought it and turned around. It looked like House was focused on the case… at least that would take his mind of other things.

 

***

 

Time didn’t fly by when you tried to busy yourself in clinic. It didn’t fly by with making jokes about the infected testicles of the boy and how they had found out about the infection in his mitral valve.

Or maybe it did, he thought, thinking about the silence they had spent the evening in, the night, his arm tentativly stretched out to measure the distance between them in this way to big bed.

Then, in the morning he tried to be up first.

She had the same idea, so they spent also the morning in silence, getting dressed, drinking coffee (yes, they finally had some in the kitchen), taking one car to the hospital.

She spent her day in the lab, he spent his day convincing Wilson to convince the parents to cut the kid open. After he had drawn a big 4 DAYS LEFT on the white board, of course.

 

This evening was not better. Sometime she went to bed, and he shared a baseball game with Steve McQueen, who was running in his wheel quite excitedly about having his human’s attention after months of just being fed and sometimes talked to by either the man or the woman when no one else was at home. Crunching a Vicodin between his teeth House looked at the game but couldn’t really tell who was winning. Sighing he leaned back on his couch.

The phone startled him awake, causing him to make a growling sound when he couldn’t immediately find it and this stupid thing just rang on. When he finally had pulled it out from under the cushions on the sofa he barked a “Yeah?!” into the receiver.

He was greeted by a “ _I didn’t do the surgery_.”

“You woke me up to tell me you are lazy?”

Wilson on the other end of the line sighed.

“ _We biopsied a piece before we started cutting_.”

Sitting up on his couch House ran a hand over his face. Behind him the door to the bedroom opened, revealing Hannah in his Mötley Crüe shirt, obviously woken by the phone.

“I’m tired. Get to the point, Wilson.”

He was a bit surprised when she didn’t go back to bed, having heard he was having a conversation with his friend about a case. Instead she made her way to the coffeetable with the cage on top.

“ _We didn't replace the valve because the growth was fibrous tissue. It wasn't infectious. We gotta be wrong about...”_

Seeing her hand reach out for the open Vicodin bottle made his eyes go wide.

“Oh God…”

_“What?!  You know what’s wrong with Matty?”_

He ignored the excited tone in Wilson’s voice but stared at the cage, at the tube in her hand, at the pills that were strewn around the place where it had been standing only seconds before.

_“House?”_

“I think Steve committed suicide”, he said breathlessly into the phone, not daring to actually look into the cage. His eyes briefly locked with hers.

_“What are you talking about?”_

House sighed, finally looking at the motionless body of his rat in his cage.

“He took some pills…”

He could hear Wilson frown on the other end of the line.

“ _House…”_

“I’ll be right in…”, the diagnostician said, hanging up, his eyes still on the lifeless rat.

“Shit.”

When she didn’t say a word he looked at her again.

“Won’t you say anything? Like: Why did you leave the open bottle next to an animal that would eat its own tail if the rat food didn’t taste better?”

“If he hasn’t been appaled by the bitter taste, then…”

She sighed, sitting down next to him, unconsciously placing a hand on his knee.

“I’m sorry. I liked Steve.”

“I killed him.”

“No. He killed himself by not acting after his instincts: Bitter means toxic, even for a rat, and if you didn’t know Vicodin would take your pain away, you would spit it out, too.”

He kept his eyes on the cage for some seconds before easing himself up.

“He’s seen me eating them all the time. Monkey see, monkey do. Make sure I keep the stuff away from our kids!”

He had already taken off on his bike when she finally was able to pull her eyes away from the entrance door back to the cage.

“You had to kill yourself right now, didn’t you? Just when you think it can’t get any worse…”

Standing up she fetched some paper towels from the kitchen before opening the cage door. She just had grabbed Steve on his tail and lifted him up when he started to extend his feet, moving them in the air, being the slow motion picture of a lab rat lifted on its tail. A chewed on pill fell to the floor and she had to laugh relieved.

“He’s stoned…”

Sitting down on the couch she put the high rat on her lap, stroking its fur.

“He’s stoned”, she repeated, running a hand over her face.

 

***

 

He was pissed.

Royaly.

Not only did he kill his rat, but Cameron had to screw them and tell the parents to go with a four out of six donor instead of waiting for them to cure the other kid.

He was pissed because Wilson had screwed them by sticking to the truth, letting them do it!

He was pissed because he still didn’t know what was wrong with the other kid, that was now bleeding out of his ears with a crashing bone marrow. He had to stop the meds to see if it was the meds… and it was still crashing.

The cancer kid already had GvHD from the four out of six donor, was in pain and somehow he had convinced the boy to help his brother against their parents’ will.

And then Wilson of all people had solved the puzzle and Cameron tortured the donor kid to get marrow for the cancer kid.

Now he was sitting here in his office, having spent the day with pathetic, desperate people around him and the definite feeling that he had the right to be pissed.

He had wasted a day on a fungal infection and being yelled at by Cuddy because of his female duckling’s stunt. It was in the middle of the night, he was sulking behind closed blinds and he just had found out that the bottle of Jack in his office somehow had disappeared.

 

“Hey…”

The silent voice from his entrance door let him look up, the scowl still present on his face. Then confusion took over.

“Hannah?”

She was leaning against the doorframe, her left hand stuffed into the pocket of her jeans, a box he knew they were transporting mice in genetics in her other hand.

“You don’t bring me a new rat, do you?” He didn’t want a new rat. He had killed Steve, he didn’t deserve a new one. When a smile appeared on her face and she shook her head no, he was even more confused. She closed the door behind her and just walked up to his desk, placing the box on top of the table and opened it.

Two shiny black eyes looked at him, the rat in the box tilted his head while holding a pellet of ratfood in his paws. Steve once again looked like the rat that ate around the pills he hid in the food to kill him back then…

“How…?”

“I didn’t want to leave him at home alone while he slept through his hangover…”

“What… what did you…?” Never finishing his question he extended his hand, slightly stroking the rodent that had returned to murching his food. By now both of her hands had disappeared in the pockets of her pants.

“I didn’t do anything. I thought he was dead, too, and when I took him out of the cage he started to move. I have the chewed on pill as evidence, if you don’t believe me…”

Sending her a confused look he continued to caress the fur of his pet. Who would have thought he would be that relieved that a rat of all animals lived…

“Why shouldn’t I believe you?”

She sighed, never quite looking him in the eyes.

“We… well, it’s awkward. And I hate fighting with you… I want everything to go back to normal…”

She knew she sounded a bit desperate, even pathetic, but she didn’t care right now. It was either stay or leave. And she just didn’t want to leave.

Looking at her House closed the box his furry friend inhabitated.

“I can’t say that I hate fighting… ‘cause that would be a lie… There will always be disagreements…”

“I know. But not like this… I mean, you proposed and…”

“I could take it back. You were right. We shouldn’t rush things”, he interrupted her musings and made her frown.

“What?”

“I said I could take it back – the proposal. We…”

When she started to laugh he cut himself off.

“Okay… I think I missed the joke…”

“We both suck at our timing… don’t you dare to take your proposal back when I finally made up my mind!”

“Made up your mind…”, he echoed, narrowing his eyes at the laughing woman in front of his desk.

“That was a yes, you moron…”

“What?”

This time her black gaze locked on him.

“Yes.”

Part of him wanted to jump up from his chair, run around the table, grab her and make love to her right there when he heard her answer, but since the leg was throbbing since the time Cuddy came by to tell him what Cameron had done he decided against that option. He rather allowed a big, very un-House grin to appear on his face, going after the need to confirm once more what she had said.

“Yes?”

“Yes… unless…”

Before she could even finish the sentence he had jumped up from his chair and rounded his desk. Grabbing her around her waist he dragged her against him.

“Don’t you dare and try to wriggle yourself out of it!”

Only now she managed to untangle her hands from the pockets of her jeans, answering his embrace.

“There are some conditions, however…”

“When we divorce you’ll get custody for Wilson and Steve, but I want the right to visit them! Weekend twice a month, and holidays.”

That got him a whack on the arm. She looked at him seriously.

“There will be no divorce. You’re stuck with me, once you said I do. You will have to sign some papers concerning me and my family…”

“I met your Mom… I bet all of your brothers and sisters in law will lose their last shirt by blabbing stuff around…”

Hannah shook her head.

“It’s the government… something along the lines not to plot taking over the country with our help…”, she said with a smile, making him grin his evil, plotting grin.

“Damn… that’s what I had in mind next. Any other conditions?”

“I want your name.”

“You don’t look like a Gregory.”

That got him a pair of beautiful, pitchblack rolled eyes.

“Actually I was…”

“I know that you meant my last name, thank you!” he exclaimed, shutting her up with a kiss when she tried to say something.

“Anything else…?” he asked when he needed to come up for air.

“Tons of things… I just can’t remember any of it”, she answered, capturing his lips once more.


	7. The Philosopher and the Queen.

With a smile against her lips he let his hands slip under the T-shirt she was wearing under a light summer jacket, caressing up her bare back. When he found no evidence of a bra he broke the kiss and looked at her.

“You hoped this would end like this?”

“Either this or me looking for a hotel room”, she admitted, closely watching his earnest face.

“Well, good for you and me that it ended like this”, he said after a while, kissing her again while getting his hands out from under her shirt and pulling her jacket off. When he tugged at the shirt it was her who broke the kiss.

“Are you sure you want to…”

He claimed her lips once again, his hands cupping her bare breasts under the shirt, making her gasp.

“You were the one complaining I haven’t touched her for two weeks”, he growled against her mouth, getting a smug “Okay”, as answer while she started tugging at his clothes.

She had him out of his jacket in no time, getting impatient when she reached the buttons of his button down shirt.

“I’ll sew them back on!” she promised before ripping it open, sending the buttons flying through his office, making him grin against the butterfly kisses on his neck while her hands roamed over his T-shirt-clad chest.

He himself lost his patience when she continued to only kiss him, her hands eventually disappearing under the shirt while she was still in her top. Getting her out of it only stopped her briefly from kissing him, his hands immediately cupping her breasts again.

“God, I missed those two!” he let her know in a low growl, maneuvering her against his desk, eventually pinching her erect nipples between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a moan.

“Guess they missed me, too.”

She only tilted her head to one side.

“How much do you like this T-shirt?”

“Pretty much, it’s an early Zeppelin… Why?”

“Because I’m going to rip it into shreds if you don’t take it off already!”

Of course he followed this hint, only to crush his lips to hers again, feeling her small hands on his chest, mimicking the movements of his hands on her breasts, her fingernails crawling through the small amount of chesthair.

“You know, there’s one thing I’ve always wanted to do in here”, he whispered against her mouth when he felt her fingers wander down to his belt, unbuckling it with a force he was afraid she would rip the leather into pieces. He didn’t wait for her to answer this sentence but let go of her, her eyes following his movements a little confused.

She had to laugh loudly when he first put Steve’s cage gently out of reach on the floor and then used his forearms to shove everything occupying his desk over the edge, making lose papers fly around in the office while magazines landed open at all sorts of pages. He also sent his phone and keyboard flying but really didn’t care right now.

When he was done “tidying up” his desk he had his arms around her once more, making her hop up onto the desk, walking between her legs.

She let out a low moan when she felt the straining bulge in his jeans and heard him growl at the same time.

“Why the hell did you have to put on pants on this of all days?”

She licked over his bottom lip before answering.

“Because I don’t go commando in a skirt.”

He stared at her unbelievingly, letting his hands caress over her ass, finally coming up to the front, opening the top button.

He groaned when he opened the zipper, being greeted by nude skin and this narrow band of hair.

“Please tell me… you don’t always go without panties when you are wearing pants…”, he gulped, locking his eyes with her amused gaze.

“That would turn you on immensely, wouldn’t it?”

“Couldn’t work anymore”, House moaned, his hands once more wandering around her body to grab her butt, yanking her forwards on the table against him. Skin on skin… that was what his hyperactive brain needed to shut up, her breasts against his chest while he kissed her breathless and his hands roamed over her bare back.

“I’d be thinking even more about the ways to get you in here to seduce you”, he continued, making her groan when his hands disappeared under the waistband of the jeans, caressing her ass. Her fingers flew down to his button, opening it also rather forcefully, her hand sneaking inside making him gasp when she finally touched him where he wanted it the most.

“Don’t think, act!” she urged him on and he willingly pulled her off the desk to her feet, to make her step out of her pants.

“Is this another way to say ‘Shut up and fuck me?’ Is it that time of the month again?” he asked with a smug grin on his face while draping her on his desk again.

Hannah again was teasing him with her tongue on his lips, grinning back.

“You know, if you want the right order, we maybe should postpone this…”

“We are getting married this weekend in Vegas. No one can tell if I knocked you up before or after that. The 9 months aren’t that precise, you know…?”

She almost stuck her tongue out at him.

“You know…”

“Yah, I know, it’s 40 weeks, and that would make it 10 months. Don’t want to think about that right now!” he growled, shoving down his jeans on his own, stopping at the boxers when she adressed him once more.

“Actually… it’s more like 30 to 32 weeks with hybrids… so…”

House frowned at her.

“32.”

“Yep.”

And now she racked her brain if there by chance was a condom flying around in her purse. Of course that led to the question where she had left her purse… and…

“Bah… They’ll assume anyways I married you because I knocked you up. Might as well get over with it!” House said with a shrug, ripping her out of her musing, surprising her.

“Huh?”

He grinned at her.

“That was my way of saying: Shut up and fuck me.”

She grinned back while letting her hands slide under the soft fabric of his boxers, caressing his buttocks and making him shiver before shoving it down, licking her lips when she saw his erect penis being freed from its  prison. Her hands started to wander up his thighs again.

Taking her head in both of his hands he made her face him.

“I’m not in the mood for foreplay right now…” he growled low in the back of his throat, being surprised by the force of her calves locking behind his thighs, urging him towards her.

Seemed like she wasn’t, too…

A shiver ran down his spine when he entered her, feeling her arch her back and moan at the contact.

Why exactly handn’t he touched her for the last weeks?

How the hell could he punish himself like that?

Claiming her lips again he could feel her hands claw at his hair, holding his head where it was right now. As if he wanted to be anywhere else right now… steadying her with one arm around her waist, his other hand firmly gripped on the edge of his desk, using all of his willpower to not crush into her with full force. At least not yet.

Abbandoning her lips he paid those two another visit, unconsciously leaving a bite mark that caused her to moan loudly.

“Greg…!”

He started licking the red spots while increasing his pace, lowering her to the table so he could use both of his hands to hold her when she reached up to grab the corners of it, to steady herself against his thrusts.

Their rhythm was already unsteady, none of them seeing a point in going slow this time. There would be enough time for slow lovemaking later, now it was just the urge and need taking over, letting him moan loudly while hoping at the same time that none of the nosy nurses was passing by right now.

“We’re never doing this again!” he grunted, getting a confused look.

“What?!”

“We’re never ever again waiting over two weeks!” he groaned, while he grabbed her hips, pushing in even deeper if that was possible.

Her “okay…” came out as a low moan, arching her back, sqeezing him tightly.

“Han…!”

She took him with her over the edge, leaving him no more room to move when her legs closed around him, holding him where he was. Not that he wanted to move. He didn’t need to speak, to think, to understand. He didn’t need to know what was happening next because right now it did not matter.

He was home.

Finally.

 

***

 

Hannah groggily lifted her head from his chest, looking into his amazing blue eyes.

“When did we end up on the floor?”

He smiled at her, his hands caressing up and down her back, his fingers drawing patterns on her naked skin.

“It think it was when the desk gave in”, he grinned, remembering fadedly her giggle when the table broke down under the weight of the two of them at the… had it been the second or the third time? She did not seem to mind him crashing down on her while the desk collapsed…

Catching her head in his hands he made her look at him.

“I love you.”

She softly kissed his lips before answering.

“I love you, too.”

Snuggling against his chest again she resumed to just lay on top of him and enjoy the featherly touches.

“So… we’re eloping if I got you right before…?” she asked after a while, not moving a limb.

The caresses stopped.

“If you want a big wedding…”

“I’m fine with Vegas. That would be us. Not wasting time with anything.”

“We wasted five days with arguing about the proposal.”

“Yeah. We didn’t waste time to properly reconceile, though”, it grinned against his chest. He kissed the top of her head, starting on the patterns again.

Suddenly she lifted her head.

“What am I going to wear? What’s appropriate for eloping? Definitely not a white dress…”

He frowned at her.

“If you want a white dress, then wear one. I’m sure they also make white dresses in Vegas.”

“You’d be okay with that…?”

Well… what girl didn’t have the dream with the white dress?

“ ‘Course. I’ll even wear my tux… though I’d still like to have Elvis doing the ceremony.”

She smiled at him.

“I get my dress, you get Elvis. Deal?”

“You’ll be the Queen, I get the king. Deal.”

His arms closed around her while he once more claimed her lips. She let out a low moan when she felt him grow hard inside her again. She would be sore after this.

And it was worth it.

“You still want to join the mile high club?” she asked against his mouth, making him look at her with a slightly confused expression.

He nodded a short yes, never being able to express the real word when she abandoned his lips, sitting up on his lap, looking at him with a dreamy, yet determined smile.

“Then I’m going to take you that high.”

 

***

 

“What time is it?”

“ ‘s still dark…”

“Are you falling asleep, baby?”

“Hmmm…”

He chuckled silently when she snuggled closer on his chest, before talking to her again.

“As much as I like this… you are laying on my bad leg…”

She slowly opened her eyes, black irises shining in the dim light of his office while she shifted to his side.

“Sorry…”

“No problem.”

Her head now was on its place on his shoulder, one of her long legs draped over his, her arm thrown over his chest.

“You comfy?”

“Hmmm…”

“ ‘Cause I think I have a carpet burn…”

“Hmmm…”

She heard him laugh and sleepily lifted her head.

“You know, normally it’s the man falling asleep after spreading his genes.”

“Is this your way of telling me you want to play the whole night? Then I have to remind you of the last time we did that, and that there is not much of the night left.”

Turning to his side House popped his head up on one hand while looking at her.

“Maybe we should go home. You here with your car?”

Hannah nodded a yes.

Though…

“I have no idea where I left my purse…”


	8. When the World ends...

He let her sleep, cuddling his pillow to her chest while he was dressing himself. He just couldn’t make himself leave the room while he did that, couldn’t make his eyes leave the sleeping woman in his bed. It didn’t take long for his brain to become hyperactive again, but right now it was he himself that felt all itchy and hyperactive.

Before his leg he would have left the house for a run.

Now the only thing he could do was going to work, busying himself with boring patients, waiting for this feeling to go away.

When he leaned in to softly kiss her before leaving she opened her eyes.

“Where d’you go?” she asked sleepily, barely able to lift her head out of the pillows.

“Earn some money for the family we intend to start…”, he replied softly, seeing a smile spread on her lips.

“I’m rich, you know…?”

“Yeah… and I am man enough to take your money. I need some time to think…”

“ ‘kay… tell Wilson I said hello…”

He kissed her once more.

“Will do. You sleep.”

She already had closed her eyes again, leaving him with a smile on his face.

On his way out he briefly checked on Steve who was sitting on top of his little house in the cage, looking at him with big black eyes.

“You scared me, buddy. Don’t do that again.”

The rat tilted his head as if he understood what he said, making him smile again.

Well… thinking about it he would be smiling awfully lot this day.

“You know, Mommy and Daddy are getting married. And this time it’s only going to be a short trip to Vegas. I know Wilson did feed you while this mess in London, but…”

He frowned at the rat that by now was murching on his food.

“Just keep your paws away from my pills, okay? You were smart enough to eat around the ones I hid to kill you.”

The rat let out a squeaky noise that made the diagnostician laugh.

“Maybe we should get you a Mrs. Rat, so you don’t feel neglected that much… by the way: Did you enjoy the show last night?”

He had to laugh again when Steve started to clean himself, making it look like he was hiding his eyes behind his paws.

 

***

 

Wilson found him in his office.

That wouldn’t have been strange, if it hadn’t been only 08:00 in the morning, his desk lay broken on the floor and his friend was sitting in his way of cross-legged (left leg drawn to his body, right leg stretched out) on said floor in a big heap of lose papers. Not caring that the whole hospital was watching him by now.

Currently he was scratching his head, thinking about when he had ordered an ACTH-test. He didn’t remember having an Addison’s patient…

“What the hell…?”

“Do you know when I had an Addison’s patient?” House asked without even looking up, putting the test-result on the rather big pile with the ‘Don’t know who that was’-papers and picked up another one.

“Greg… what happened to your office?” Wilson wanted to know while stepping inside.

“Todd’s paresis? Jesus, are my kids working overtime and I didn’t know?”

“House!”

He briefly looked up.

“Well, what does it look like?”

“Like you got in a fight in here!” Wilson exclaimed, seeing the diagnostician frown at him.

“Well, I definitely ended one. And when the hell did we have a Kawasaki syndrome?!”

Wilson watched him dig around in his files for a while.

“Where’s Hannah, Greg?” he then asked softly.

“By now she should be packing”, was the desinterested answer and he started to just pile up everything within reach. Should Cameron put that back in the right order.

He didn’t realize that Wilson was still staring at him.

“Packing…”

“Yeah. Hey, join me on a trip to Vegas? I think I’m quitting early today.”

“Vegas”, the oncologist echoed, getting a confused look.

“Will you stop repeating everything I say? It’s not like the world will end because of that.”

Wilson scrutinized him again while he picked up his phone and placed it on the broken remainders of his desk.

“If you say so”, the oncologist said, leaving the office with a last look on the diagnostician who was still sitting on his floor, piling up magazines.

 

***

 

Lisa Cuddy jumped when her door was pushed open.

Good, by now she should be used to it, everytime House had one of his crazy ideas and needed her approvement.

But this time it definitely was too early and the person bursting into her office was wearing a white lab coat.

“James Wilson, if you start to take over the manners of…!” she started, being cut off by the oncologist quite agitatedly.

“We have a problem!”

“Yeah, I know, House finally brainwashed you enough to…”

Panting slightly Wilson stopped at her desk.

“They broke up.”

“I’ll alert the media. Should I call them Lily and Adam… or…”

“Are you kidding me? This has catastrophy written all over it and you are mocking me!” the oncologist exclaimed, sounding more hysterical than before.

The dean of PPTH sighed.

“Then maybe you should tell me who broke up, because I have no idea whom you are talking about.”

“House. And Dr. McLachlan.”

At that she narrowed her pale blue eyes at him.

“No way…”

“I just walked by his office. They had a big fight in there, he said he ended it, and Hannah is packing up her things right now. You should have seen him. Telling me that the world doesn’t end just because of that. He’s devastated!”

By now Cuddy was on her feet, starting to pace behind her desk.

“I’ll kill him! How did he screw up this time?!”

Wilson on the other hand let himself fall into a chair.

“He asked her to marry him.”

“WHAT?!” Grabbing the back of her chair for support Cuddy looked at him in surprise.

“And she told him she wasn’t ready right now… they were arguing the past few days…”

“I will kill her!”

Wilson sighed.

“I don’t think that all of this is her fault.”

“I don’t care. He’s opened up to her and she crushes him when he’s vulnerable the most. I’m going to fire her!”

Yes, it was this motherly side of her again, the one, that needed to keep everything bad from this man. She couldn’t believe that this woman would do something like that to him…

“It was too early… they just came out alife of this mess in London. He told me himself that he doesn’t really know why he proposed… knowing him he’s been pushing and pushing…”

“What… what are we going to do right now?” the dean asked, falling down in her own chair, looking at the oncologist quite desperately.

“I’m taking him to lunch… just like every day. Maybe I can find something out. Maybe it’s not to late”, Wilson sighed. This was so House. Mess everything up and leave the others to pick up the pieces.

“You know who we are talking about, don’t you?” was her siltent retoric question that made him nod his head.

“Yah… maybe I should start dosing his coffee with antidepressants…”

 

***

 

Two arms sneaked around her from behind, soft lips kissing her neck, scratchy stubble tickling it while she tried to find a place for pair of shoes number five.

“We’ll only be gone two days”, House whispered and tried to take it out of her hands. She stopped him.

“These I definitely will need…”

“You won’t need any shoes. When I’ve got that ring on your finger you’ll wear nothing else for the rest of our time in Vegas…”

Turning around in his arms Hannah pecked him on his lips before putting on a mean grin.

“I have to tell you that I’m really good at roulette… and if I have to leave those shoes behind you won’t see what I got at my run to Victoria’s secret today…”

Frowning at her he stopped his attempts to grab the high heels.

“You had time to go to…?”

“Well… since they’re making white dresses also in Vegas, we’ll do a bit of shopping there, and I only need a pair of jeans and something for the casino. Not that hard to pack that… and your tux”, she explained. He just grinned and let her go to help finding a place for the shoes.

“We should leave if we want to grab the early plane”, Hannah told him when they were done, this time without him distracting her.

 

***

 

When Wilson came by the conference room around noon he could see Chase and Cameron inside, working through piles of paper.

“Is that Raynaud-man or Raynaud-woman?” Chase asked, showing her some test-results.

“It’s the woman. That was the day before the Kawasaki and the Endangiitis…”

The oncologist walked on to the office, where the destroyed desk already was gone. And no House inside. Turning back to the conference room he stuck his head inside.

“Do you know where House is? Clinic?”

Both ducklings scoffed.

“He went home already. Mumbled something about a trip to Vegas and left us alone with this mess”, Chase complained.

“Do you know what happened to his office?” Cameron asked but the oncologist had already turned around, practically running to the elevator.

“Has everybody gone crazy around here, or is this just me?” the young immunologist asked her colleague, handing him another piece of paper.

“Nope. We’re the only sane people here.”

“Oh... good. So nothing has changed.”

 

***

 

This time she definitely thought it was House, bursting in her office. It was the right time, it was the right amount of door-banging-against-wall, and the person walking into her sanctuary was wearing no lab coat.

On the other hand… she knew that House had no patient, the uneven gait was missing and she had done nothing to piss him off.

“Will this become a regular basis? Or are you just trying to… I don’t know… substitute House while he’s not bugging me?” Lisa Cuddy asked the ongologist standing before her desk.

“He’s doing something stupid!”

“Who?”

Wilson threw his hands in the air.

“Jesus Christ, who do you think I am talking about! Cameron and Chase just told me that he left early today.”

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at Wilson.

“So… because he’s wallowing at home he’s doing something stupid? Maybe he’s taking everything into his own hands and tries to win her back?”

“Yeah… With a full bottle of Vicodin and the plan to go to Vegas!”

That made her eyes go wide.

“He wouldn’t…”

“He’s mixing alcohol and painkillers since the day he was discharged after the leg. What do you think…”

Getting up from her chair and grabbing her purse she never let him finish his sentence.

“What are you waiting for?!”

 

***

 

The stewardess let her glance wander over the two passengers again. When they did not kiss each other, they would just sit there and talk silently, the man resting his hand possessively on her thigh. She would caress through his hair now and then, being caught by this stunning blue eyes.

Yes, she had seen them.

How could you not notice something like that.

When she asked them what they wanted to drink he ordered champaigne and the woman started to laugh.

“When you go for it, then you go for it.”

They would be married when they were heading back to New Jersey, that the stewardess knew.

So she brought them the champaigne, silently wishing them all the best.

 

***

 

“House!”

Wilson was banging loudly on the front door, while Cuddy had the airport on her phone, reserving two seats for the next flight to Las Vegas.

“Greg! Open that goddamn door!”

Closing her cellphone Cuddy watched him for some seconds.

“Doesn’t he keep a key hidden out here? Or don’t you have a spare one?”

The oncologist looked at her a bit ashamed when he dragged out said key, opening the door.

Being prepared for the worst.

His backpack was next to the piano (btw.: I’m using House’s apartment from season 1), where also two pairs of high heels lay.

The living room was empty, as was the kitchen and the study. Heading for the bedroom he saw Cuddy disappear in the bathroom.

“Nothing in here!” she exclaimed relieved while Wilson was staring at open drawers and wardrobe doors.

“He’s packed some clothes…”

“So… we’re going to Vegas?” she asked when she joined him in the bedroom, looking suspiciously at the unmade bed.

“I guess. Though I don’t have any idea how to find him. Vegas is big”, Wilson growled, leaving the room.

“And if we have to look into every casino and hotelroom there, we’ll find him!” the dean of PPTH murmured, closing one of the wardrobes, before opening it again slowly.

If he had sent her packing, then why was all of her stuff still here?

“We better do. If one is pulling the plug on him, it’s me!” the oncologist growled to himself.

You had nothing but trouble with this man!


	9. How soon is now?

“This is ridiculous, Greg… can’t you come over?”

Browsing rather desperately through the heap of wedding dresses the only thing Hannah McLachlan did see by now was white.

Tons and tons of white.

That was why she had called her soon to be husband.

“Can’t you come over? This guy has three different shades of gold, alone, combined, with stone, without stones… What happened to just gold… by the way: I like platinum better… or should we get titan? You know, hospital and everything… God, I think my head is going to explode.”

Laughter on the other end of the line let him frown.

“I have a nervous breakdown here and you laugh at me?” House asked into his cellphone, getting a confused look of the shop assistant.

“I have a nervous breakdown here and you dare to have one, too? How’s that ever gonna work?”

“I don’t know… we’re better when we’re together. So come over!”

“No, you come over…”

“How about a break. I’ll take you to a restaurant, and afterwards we can continue to break down.”

“If we’ll ever be able to decide what we want to eat… see you in a few.”

 

***

 

The waiter had a watchful eye on the couple at the table in the corner. When they were not feeding each other, they were kissing. He had not seen them talking yet, and even though they did not seem drunk he’d rather not have them disappear under the table.

Hannah smiled at House when he offered her another fork of his pasta.

“I’m really glad we did not have problems to decide what we wanted to eat. I’ve never been that lost when chosing a dress…”

“At least you have been chosing dresses before”, House sighed. He had thought this would be a bit easier, after they had finally made up their minds.

It wasn’t like them to waste time and now it was already dark outside.

If you could talk about darkness in a city that was lightened by millions of lightbulbs and neonlights.

 

***

 

“Okay. We’ve spent hours in this plane. He better be in the first casino, winning at the blackjack table. Because this will cost him!” Wilson growled, stepping out of the cab that had brought them from the airport directly into sin city.

“I hope he is in one of the casinos winning at the blackjack table instead of the other option”, Cuddy said, looking at the surrounding buildings.

“Where the hell should we start? He could be everywhere. Has he been answering his phone yet?”

“The line was still busy when I called the last time. How about we separate…?”

The dean of PPTH just nodded, still not sure what exactly the plan was, but nevertheless turned around and started walking.

The oncologist turned the other way, bumping into a man after only a few steps.

“I’m sorry…”

 

***

 

“Jeez, how about not doing U-turns in the middle of a crowd?!” House grumped at the man in front of him that almost had ran him over, while grabbing on Hannah’s arm for support.

“I’m sorry…”, was the mumbled reply before the man looked up and made the funniest face the diagnostician had ever seen.

“House!”

“Wilson? What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, frowning at his friend who by now had spotted the woman next to him, firmly attached to his left hand. As if he would let go off her, now that he had her.

“Dr. Mc… Hannah… What the hell?!”

“Hello James… what are you doing here?” was her smiled answer, looking as confused as House.

“Actually I came here to stop you from doing something stupid…” Wilson admitted, addressing his friend who stared at him with a steep furrow between his eyes.

“From doing something stupid… not all marriages are stupid, Jimmy, though thinking about your experiences…”

“I did not think that you were going to get married…”

By now House was completely lost.

“What else would I do in Vegas with Hannah?”

Wilson sighed not really knowing how to explain what he had thought.

Actually he did feel pretty stupid right now.

“I thought you broke up after that conversation this morning, okay?” he exclaimed and was surprised by the look Hannah was throwing House.

“I know you’re not communicating that well, but even you should be able to transmit the difference between ‘Yay, I’m getting married’ and ‘I’m going to get wasted ‘cause I dumped her’.”

“I’ll never ever say ‘yay’, no way!” House grinned, turning to his friend who was still looking quite confused.

“And you caught me at the wrong time this morning. I was thinking about commitment-phobic me getting married while I was trying to sort through those patient files… by the way, how are Cameron and Chase doing?”

“They were still sorting when we left… why couldn’t you just say: Jimmy, we are getting married?” Wilson grumped not being really angry. Come on, who could be really angry with House longer than five seconds?

“When WE left?” House echoed instead of answering the question only to see Wilson’s eyes grow wide another time while he dragged out his cellphone.

 

***

 

“You brought Cuddy along?”

“Well, you can’t blame us for worrying about you…”

“You brought Cuddy along!”

“Are you stuck somehow, House?” Wilson shifted his weight from one foot to the other while waiting for their boss, quirming under the scrutinizing gaze his friend threw him. They still stood at the spot where he had bumped into House, the diagnostician having slipped his arm around his soon to be wife while leaning on his cane.

“You brought Cuddy along”, House just said a third time before turning to Hannah.

“That might be good.”

“As in… she’s going to rip my head off because I’m taking you off the market permanently? She’s still number three on my ‘other women hitting on my guy list’. Actually I had to update her to number two, because Allison gave up.”

“First of all: I’m taking _you_ off the market permanently, not the other way round. And: You’ve got another female to help you chose that dress while I make Jimmy buy rings with me”, House stated. Turning to his friend he had that evil grin on his face… the one he always had when he knew something would happen.

“How about you be the best man this time… and Cuddy can be bridesmaid… you two could fulfill the old tradition…”

“House!”

“What? I did that at all three hmpf…”

When Wilson elbowed him in his stomach he had to stop his sentence, grimacing slightly.

“I don’t think Hannah wants to hear about your conquests at my weddings!”

What he had not counted in was the sarcasm of his friend’s fiancee.

“Oh no, I want to hear about them… then I can reenact the scene and be ten times better.”

While the oncologist stared at the redhead openmouthed, House shook his head in amusement.

“Please… you were already ten times better than all of them when I didn’t know your name in my shower back then.”

Wilson rolled his eyes at that just at the moment he spotted Cuddy in the crowd, heading towards them.

“You could have been a little more precise than “Found him, come to where we got off the cab!” she exclaimed when she had reached the three of them, actually whacking the oncologist on his arm. Then she turned to House.

“And YOU!”

“Uh oh… I think she’s mad at me”, the diagnostician whispered with a sideglance towards Hannah and was rewarded also with a smack on his arm by his boss.

“How THE HELL could you scare me like that?!”

“But Mom, I didn’t do anything!”

Glaring daggers at the two men Cuddy breathed in deeply.

“Why do I even listen to anything one of you says? Dr. Wilson didn’t even see that both sides of your bed were used and her stuff was still there! And I let him talk me into a worst case scenario involving Vicodin, Whiskey and a bunch of hookers!”

House smirked at his friend.

“In your imagination I had an orgy here?”

“Yeah, well, I definitely did not think that you were going to get married here after that show this morning!” Wilson defended himself.

“You could have asked”, House stated, impatiently trying to shift his weight from one foot to the other.

“Well, excuse me that I was busy staring at your destroyed desk and you on the floor and… oh my god, I just realized WHY your desk was destroyed”, the oncologist exclaimed, pointing one finger at his friend. House and Cuddy this time rolled their eyes in unison while Hannah stoically smiled.

 

***

 

“So…”

Lisa Cuddy threw a sideglance at the woman next to her, walking to the boutique. She still could not believe what was happening here. And she still did not believe that she got dragged into it.

“So…”

Hannah uncomfortably tried not to look at her boss. Except for business conversations and that one time at Greg’s apartment she did never really talk to Lisa Cuddy. Her job interview had been more a formality than actually an interview. She’d always been doing research, trying to unpuzzle the human genome for the military as well as she tried to help injured soldiers. She had references no one else had. She had knowledge no one else had.

And to be honest… she had wanted to hide in her institute, far away from anybody.

Ha, yeah, good plan.

Dr. Cuddy was her boss.

Lisa was Greg’s friend. At least she thought so…

Opening the door for the other woman Hannah sighed deeply which did not go unnoticed.

“See… if you don’t want me here…” Cuddy started but was cut off.

“Oh no, I need all the help I can get… it’s just…”

The assistant was already heading towards them, recognizing the redhead who couldn’t decide what dress to buy.

“Hello! I see you brought some help. We’ll find the perfect dress for you, you’ll see. How about I get you something to drink and then we start?”

Hannah just stared at the woman, so Cuddy nodded and watched the girl speed away before she touched the other woman’s arm, turning her to be able to look her in the eyes.

“Hannah… If you don’t want this, let him know now! It will hurt even more if you…”

“But I want this! I said yes.” Turning around and falling in one of the chairs opposite to a huge mirror Hannah leaned her elbows on her knees, hiding her head in her arms. Slightly confused the head of PPTH took a seat next to her.

“What’s the problem then?” she asked softly.

“He’s so rude sometimes. He knows you have feelings for him and then makes you bridesmaid, sends you with me to pick a dress… which I really would be greatful for, because I still don’t have a clue what I want”, Hannah answered, looking up while brushing her hair out of her face.

“He… he knows…”, Cuddy stammered taken aback but then straightened her back.

“Of course he does. He also knows we never would work. He still hasn’t forgiven me that I told Stacy about the option to remove the dead tissue of his thigh muscle. This will always stand between us. And… and you make him happy. You make him reach his dream of a happy family…”

“I’m not pregnant if you’re looking for an explanation for the rush”, Hannah smiled, getting an amused snort as answer.

“I just… I just wish I had at least tried a little bit to get to know you… I mean, you’re going to be my maid of honor, and I don’t know anything about you”, the neurologist then sighed.

“I look like a gypsy in red”, the other woman stated, making the bride laugh.

“Then I’ll buy you a red dress… Dr. Wilson will not know what hit him”, she exclaimed, making Cuddy laugh in return.

“Tell you what: We’re going to pick out some dresses to knock the guys out of their shoes, and I tell you some embarrassing stories about House at John Hopkins.”

“Please tell me you were not one of the extremely satisfied freshmen with whose bras he decorated his dean’s office because he made him tutor them…”

“Oh. I see you know the story already…”

 

***

 

He had never thought he would do something like that again.

After the first divorce he actually had thrown the ring away.

The one of his second failed marriage he had taken back to the jewelier.

The third…

It still lay in the drawer of his nightstand, as a constant reminder of something he was not made for.

Just like the last two times reminding him to never fall in love again, marry again, pick out rings and cakes and porcelain.

A voice in his head was screaming that his best friend was making a big mistake.

That was when House looked at him.

“Stop thinking about your marriages. I’m the important person today.”

“You can’t blame me… you know what? Just chose one, okay?”

“That’s easier said than done… You’ve got experience in picking out jewelery. So advice me or this will take forever”, the diagnostician grumped, looking at the vast selection in front of him. He’d decided that he wanted something in white-gold or platinum already… still there were so many…

“We’ve got plenty of time. Cuddy will put Hannah in a dress, then Hannah will put Cuddy in a dress…”

“Can you stop that please? I’ll have wet dreams all night about the two of them in the changing room together…”, House groaned with Wilson shaking his head.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. Both of them will try on wedding dresses before they finally decide about _the one_. And Cuddy needs a dress as maid of honor.”

“Why will both of them try on wedding dresses?” House asked absent-minded, slipping one of the rings over his finger. It felt funny.

Wilson just shook his head.

“Because they are girls, House.”

 

***

 

“Okay. What is wrong in this picture?” Hannah stepped out of the dressing room, looking at Cuddy. The dean of PPTH turned around in front of the mirror, looking at herself, not really seeing the other woman.

“It fits perfectly… so…?”

“Yeah. We found the perfect wedding dress. For you.”

At that Cuddy turned around, her mouth open to reply something when Hannah grabbed the skirt of the dress she was currently wearing and stepped up to the mirror.

“If this one looks like the last 3000, I’m getting married in my jeans.”

They were more comfortable anyway.

The dean just started to smile.

“Well. I think 3001 is the number.”

 

***

 

“Okay. These are the ones.”

Wilson jerked up at these words, having dozed off while his friend was trying on one ring after the other, annoying him and the assistant whom he had told to shut up while he was thinking. So he did not take a history on anything. Not even on a ring. (And let’s just assume he got her size right, okay?)

Taking a peek he decided that it was a good choice, even though he preferred the yellow-gold.

“Can we go then, please?”

Too much time spent with something he right now did not want to think about.

“Yeah… you’ve been a good boy, when we’re done I’ll buy you ice cream…”, House joked, giving the assistant his credit card. Wilson scoffed.

“If you make a face like that then I won’t buy you ice cream”, the diagnostician said with a stern face.

“Good. Because I want coffee.”


	10. The forever moments

“Are you supposed to breathe in this thing?”

The dress felt too narrow… putting her hands on her waist Hannah took a deep breath, feeling her heart beat against the white fabric, feeling her hair tickle the skin of her bare shoulders while cascading down her back.

“You are alright. That’s just the nerves”, Cuddy tried to reasure her.

“I’m not nervous… I faced down taliban and terrorists and pharmaceutical salesmen… I don’t get nervous… I think I’m dying, actually…”

“Wait, until you go in there. It will go away.”

 

***

 

“You’re not telling me that this is a mistake?” House was figeting with his tie and had his hand slapped away by his friend readjusting the black fabric.

“Why? Do you want me to?”

“I should’ve shaved…”, the diagnostician not answered the question but ran his hand over his stubble.

“You’ve got the rings?” he asked Wilson, turning his blue gaze to his friend again.

“How many times will you ask me that question? I never did that with you.”

“Just answer the question!”

Wilson sighed.

“Yes. I have the rings.”

 

***

 

She had never felt this nervous before, and she didn’t even know why this feeling chose exactly this moment to surface.

Okay, well, maybe she knew, but…

They were still the same people, except for her last name and some other things she still had to inform Greg of. There would be a real New Jersey law thing.

Taking a deep breath she battled against the unwelcome feeling of wanting to run, shaking her head at the thought of running away.

She had seen the film, Hotdog had dragged her into it.

She sure as hell would be no runanway bride.

Looking at Cuddy she tried a smile.

“You think Greg will quote this horrible movie when we walk in there?”

The other woman smiled, grabbing the handle of the door separating them from the groom and his best man.

“He would not be himself if he doesn’t… take it as a good sign.”

With that she opened the door and they made the first steps inside.

 

***

 

He was nervous.

Why the hell was he nervous?

He had asked her, she had said yes and now they were getting married.

There would be a real New Jersey law thing.

No need to feel nervous.

When the door opened and he saw her walk in smiling the itchy feeling disappeared slightly.

When she stood next to him without hestitating once while walking down the aisle it felt like a block of solid concrete was taken off his chest.

Leaning in to her slightly, he grinned.

“Do I have to yell ‘Lock the doors?’” he asked, being surprised by the open laughter that came as well from Hannah as from Cuddy.

 

***

 

“He said ‘You may kiss the bride’… not ‘make out like teenagers’”, Wilson stated while watching his friend kiss his wife. Cuddy next to him dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

“I never thought that I would cry at a wedding where Elvis was doing the ceremony.”

“Please. I never thought I would be the best man at _his_ wedding. Though I figured that if he ever married he would do that in Vegas with… well, Elvis doing the ceremony. I just didn’t think he would find a girl playing along with that. And I thought there would be a great amount of alcohol involved.”

Elvis had joined them by now, smiling at the kissing couple.

“They’re a nice couple. And sober. I’d hate to interrupt them… but the next couple’s waiting… so if they still want the pictures…”

Cuddy stopped Wilson from walking up to the still kissing couple.

“Could you take some pictures of them kissing?”

Hannah had both of her arms draped around House’s waist, while he was holding her close to his body with one arm and the other hand held onto the back of her head.

Cuddy had to urge down the upwelling tears at this picture while Elvis was nodding at the photographer. This time it would be more than the one ‘Yes, we ARE married’ picture and he could see his man smile at the opportunity, walking a half circle around the pair to catch them from all angles.

“If you could look at me now… picture for the maid of honor and the best man…”

Hearing that Hannah and Greg stopped kissing, but looked at each other for some seconds, a smile appearing on both of their faces.

So now they were…

Flashligh shocked them out of their trance, finally looking at a smiling Elvis, a hyperactive photographer, a sobbing Cuddy and a stern Wilson.

“That’s good, now, lean onto your husband!” the photographer ordered, and Hannah did what he said before even thinking about it, smiling into the camera.

“Okay… when did this turn into a photo session?” she asked through her smile, getting a “Don’t know” through equally closed teeth.

“I think that’s enough”, Elvis finally stopped his photographer, seeing the smiles freeze to a mask.

“Uh… actually there’s one more thing I’d like to have…”, House said, keeping his wife next to him.

 

***

 

Wilson watched his friend who still had a smile on his face closely.

Of course he had asked Elvis for a photo… with him alone, with Hannah alone, with him and Hannah, with all of them… and one of him and Cuddy together. He even made the man promise he would sign one of them.

The following couple in the meantime got sober enough to decide that they did not want to get married and watching them walk away the oncologist decided that House had done them a favor.

He was tired.

Actually he was exhausted.

Worrying about House made you feel like that.

So he walked silently with Cuddy next to him, following the couple to their hotel, trying not to think, just making his legs move.

It didn’t work and for once he thought he might get a tiny insight in what House called his ‘hyperactive brain’, considering thousands of things, relevant or irrelevant, occupying his mind, not letting him rest.

Cuddy seemed to sense it and placed a hand on his arm.

“They’ll be doing fine.”

He sighed.

“I hope so. Me offering beer, company and a couch won’t heal him if…”

Stopping himself midsentence he sighed again. Did he really heal that easy?

“I never had with any of my wives what he has with Hannah. I’ve seen them together. They communicate without even talking a word.”

“We should be glad he found someone who finally understands him. Maybe it’ll soften him a bit.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that. After all he still is House, even though a happier version. He’s still an ass. And I don’t think even Hannah always understands him.”

“Well, who does? Can’t you just put on a little smile and be happy for him? Or at least for me?”, Cuddy asked him, hooking herself onto his arm.

“This is a wedding. We’re going to celebrate!”

“Damn straight!” said a loud voice in front of them, belonging to the husband of the hour, throwing a look over his shoulder.

“Stop thinking about wives number 1, 2 and 3. My wife just told me she’s starving and since I vowed to never forget to feed her again, we’ll grab a bite now, before heading up to the honeymoon suite.”

At that Wilson had to laugh.

“You actually booked the honeymoon suite?”

“Yeah, why? I always wanted to sleep in a heart shaped bed.”

“I won’t let you sleep a minute tonight. And now come on, I’m hungry.” Hannah tugged on his left arm.

“Jeez, we’re only married ten minutes and she’s already bossing me around.”

Wilson and Cuddy shared a look while he continued limping next to his wife, pecking her on the lips.

 

***

 

“You’re staying here?”

Wilson looked around in the high class restaurant which was a part of a high class hotel with a high class casino. The women had disappeared in the ladies room to freshen up and he was alone with House.

“Yup.”

“I’m not lending you money this time.”

House watched his friend who had his hands under the table, looking… clenched.

“No need, I just married rich. What’s the matter, Wilson? Drinks and food for free, Cuddy in this gorgeous red dress… if I weren’t a married man…”

“House, just stop it, okay?” Wilson said, not making eye contact.

“Is this still about this morning? If I remember right I asked you to come with me…”

“Greg, I though you were going to hurt yourself when I didn’t find you this noon. I’m glad I was wrong, but you are exhausting me. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. Why do I always worry about you? You don’t even care if anyone is thinking about you, and you showed it to me this morning.”

“Just because…” House tried to interrupt his friend but was waved off.

“You didn’t even tell me you were going to get married. You asked me to join you on your trip, but the real important news you decided to keep a secret. I’m your best friend and you decided to keep it a secret!”

Running a hand over his face Wilson sighed.

“And I know I could have asked you more precisely what had happened. I’m just tired of guessing what you mean. You are blunt to everyone else, and I seem to need a decoder every time I talk to you.”

Taking hold of his drink the oncologist stared intently at the table, hoping the women would be joining them soon. If they didn’t he would end up crying sooner or later.

“I am blunt when it concerns work. When it concerns things that don’t affect me emotionally”, House spoke up to his surprise, his voice silent and sincere.

“I’m not the guy handing out cigars because she said yes, because everyone will look at me and ask themselves how the hell the cripple got lucky. Had you asked me what I would do in Vegas I would have told you.”

“You are handing out cigars when you’re having a child, not when you are getting married”, Wilson stated silently.

“You scared me today. Don’t do that again”, the oncologist continued while holding onto his drink, shaking his head.

“You have an ego as big as Canada and care what the others will think when you finally find the person who makes you happy?”

“I may have an ego as big as Canada… but I also have a limp and not the best history concerning people who make me happy”, House replied. His walls were intact, letting no one come too close. Not only after his leg and the disaster with Stacy. They had been built carefully since his childhood, and every time someone had managed to shatter them, very soon the same someone showed him that he was better off with intact walls. He kept things to himself because information was power. Something that could be used against him. So he stored it behind these walls.

Hannah had somehow managed to fly over his walls without shattering them. She was inside while his defense was still intact. And she didn’t snoop around.

Wilson sometimes found a ladder.

“No one you know thinks of you as _the cripple_. You are the scary, brilliant doc, the guy who we call if we don’t know anymore what to do. You are my friend, and I sometimes want to kill you. You are Cuddy’s friend, and she wants to strangle you even more often than I do. And since when do you care what people you don’t know think?”

“She looks hot in the red dress, doesn’t she?” House asked, making his friend smile.

“Yeah, she does”, he replied, being greeted by silent laughter behind him.

“She’s standing behind me, isn’t she?” he asked, seeing House nod. Wilson just rolled his eyes and sighed in defeat while the two women took their seats.

“I’m glad you like my dress, Dr. Wilson”, Cuddy stated while House draped his arm around his wife, sipping on his drink.

“Well, I’m certainly glad you like me liking your dress”, he answered, making the dean of PPTH blush slightly.

Hannah and Greg just shared a look.

 

***

 

Unlocking the door to their suite Hannah turned around to her husband, a grin on her lips.

“Since you proclaimed loud enough for the whole hotel to hear that you are tired as hell… do you mind if I join Dr. Cuddy and James while you are sleeping, Grampa?”

A smile appeared on his lips while he tilted his head to one side, waiting for her to open the door before limping in there rather slowly, seeing her expression change.

“Are you okay?”

He didn’t turn around to her but proceeded walking, telling her “Nope.”

He knew he had her when the door closed, her soft steps sounding fast on the carpet. She stopped before reaching him.

“What’s wrong? Does the leg…?”

“Not everything is about the leg, Hannah… Actually I just married and…”

“And what? You’re regretting it already?” That came out more harsh than he though it would and he turned around, seeing his wife stare at him in disbelief.

“If you had let me finish my sentence I would have told you that I just married and then had to spend one hour in a restaurant instead of ripping too many layers of satin of my wife’s body.”

Crossing her arms before her chest she looked at him with that steep furrow between her eyebrows.

“I start to understand James. You open your mouth and make me believe we’re not even lasting longer than Britney and her school dude.”

Turning around and stepping up to her he watched her closely.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

A grin split her face.

“God, Greg, you are so easy!”

He had her against the closed door in no time, claiming her lips.

“You little witch!”

Her fingers had already opened his tie when she noticed the look on his face.

“It really was just a joke, baby”, she reassured him, trying to kiss him but he backed away.

“Tell me we’re lasting longer than Britney.”

Taking his head in both of her hands she made him face her, locking her black eyes with ocean blue ones.

“I think I have to tell you more often that I love you. I said yes, we both said I do. We’re going to last longer than the queen and her husband.”

“I think you should do that.”

“Do what?”

“Tell me you love me more often.” He could feel the metal of the ring against his cheek, making this real once more, when she kissed him briefly.

“I love you.”

_I’ll take care of you, make sure you are save…_

“Good thing I married you, ‘cause I happen to love you, too.”

“Then… can we go from emotional to the ripping stuff you talked about before?”

House laughed and slightly shook his head.

“This time I think I’m in the mood for foreplay.”


	11. Be my somebody.

“You are awfully silent today, Wilson”, Cuddy stated while sipping on her drink. She had seen the look in his eyes when House declared that the cripple was tired and wanted his wife to tuck him in. Everybody in the room knew what he meant and she had seen more than one man smiling acknowledgingly.

His fingers closed around his glass.

“I never expected something like this. I mean, I was the loser with three failed marriages. But at least…”, he swallowed hard once but then decided to go on with his confession.

“But at least House was even more miserable.”

He jerked, surprised by the loud clang with which she slammed her glass onto the table.

“James Wilson, did you just listen to yourself?!”

“Yes. And I mean it.”

“You don’t want him to be happy?! You can’t be serious!”

Wilson sighed.

“They are trying to get pregnant. And he thinks he wants it. With his luck he will have the most gorgeous kid you’ve ever seen, smart like hell, annoying like hell. He doesn’t even like kids!”

Cuddy rolled her eyes.

“And you claim to be his friend?”

“Because I see this marriage doomed to disaster?”

“Because you have not the slightest clue whom you are talking about.”

“But you do.”

“Yes.”

Sending her a mean frown Wilson took another sip of his drink. It didn’t have enough alcohol. And it was gone too fast.

“Who made you an expert of his feelings?”

“He told me.” Lisa Cuddy finished her cocktail, looking sternly at the oncologist.

“Yeah, sure.”

“He told me he always wanted to have a family, and we had a big conversation about baseball and ponies. Come on, you have seen him with kids in the hospital.”

Wilson scoffed.

“Yeah – he humiliates them just as much as their parents.”

“If I ever thought he was at least near to something that you could call caring it was when he was treating children.”

“So he has his moments. Short moments. And then he’s cold as stone again when they try to show him they actually like him. Do you really think that will change?”

Cuddy got off her chair.

“I can’t believe you are all grumped up because House for one time is not even more miserable than you. James Wilson, I think I was wrong thinking you were a good guy.”

With that she left the table.

“That’s what all of my wives said”, Wilson murmured to himself, before standing up.

 

***

 

He had a faible for these long zippers on the back of dresses, House decided, when his long fingers curled around the tiny object, listening to the silent sound it made while following his hand down all the way. Peeling her out of the dress he was rewarded with the sight of a new bra and panties, leaving him a bit disappointed.

“No garter belt?”

She just tugged at the jacket of his tux, pulling it off his shoulders and leaving it on the floor. While kissing him and working on the buttons of his shirt she answered “I actually tried one on. Uncomfortable as hell.”

“Yeah, but sexy as hell, too”, House retorted.

“Then consider yourself happy, because I bought this thing”, she said against his lips while he was working on the clasps of her bra, small fingers opening the buttons of his shirt

“And why don’t you wear it?”

Having her out of the bra his fingers touched bare breasts, making her sigh contented.

“Because… I packed the shoes but not the garter belt. I had no list this time”, Hannah smiled, getting him out of the shirt while he stared at her in disbelief.

“You forgot it at home”, he then laughed, shaking his head while he backed her against the door again.

“I’ll wear it at home for you”, she whispered, letting her hands caress up his bare chest before sneaking up his neck, losing themselves in his hair while she held his head, kissing him encouragingly.

“And what will you wear tonight?” was his slightly confused and muffled answer.

Untangling her hand from his scalp she let the stone of her ring sparkle in the light of their hotel room.

“Only this”, she answered before locking her eyes with his while she stepped out of her shoes and her panties.

 

***

 

She found him sitting at the bar, nursing another drink, looking really preoccupied. Sitting down next to the oncologist she ordered a cocktail before turning to him.

“I just can’t believe you despise him. We know both that he deserves it.”

“House deserves many things…”

“Wilson!”

“Amongst them being happy”, Wilson continued, ignoring her glare.

“You know him. How long do you think it will take till he becomes bored? Or says or does something to drive her away to prove that it wasn’t meant to be? It will be me to pick up the pieces. Again. I don’t know if I can do that for him. Again.”

Cuddy eyed him for a while.

“Was it that bad after the breakup with…?”

Wilson looked off into nothing, clinging onto his glass.

“He was in pain. He couldn’t move. And the woman he loved betrayed him and left him. He refused medication, company… food. You don’t know any of it because he was in rehab by then. But I do. I watched him turn off the morphine drip, I watched him go into another cardiac arrest because of the pain… he wouldn’t tell me why Stacy left.”

“He made her.”

Taking his eyes off his drink Wilson watched his boss closely.

“What?”

“He made her because he realized she couldn’t give him what he needed.”

“Nobody can give him what he needs. That would be a new thigh muscle.”

Shaking her head the dean of PPTH looked up to receive her drink before talking again.

“He wanted a family. Stacy didn’t. And when she offered him to have the child he always wanted to cheer him up…”

“He thought she would only have it because she pitied him.”

“Because _he_ wanted it, and not _they_. Let me tell you one thing, James. There is much more wrong with Gregory House than just his leg. And if he thinks that this woman is the right person to spend her life with him… who are we to tell him or anybody otherwise?”

Taking a big sip of her drink she watched him over the edge of her glass. She could see him thinking, considering what she just had said.

What she never would tell him was that she envied the married couple, too. She would never tell anybody that more than being successful in her job she wanted what House wanted.

_Home. Kids. Cat._

And a man who made her forget that she was successful in her job long enough to actually have a life.

Next to her Wilson sighed.

“I can’t believe I am jealous of my best friend being happy. If I could rewind this day I would, believe me. I would ask him what he would do in Vegas and react in the appropriate way.”

“That would have been?”

“Buy him a drink and organize a bachelor party with a stripper.”

“You would have done that for him?”

That got her a frown.

“Come on. We have done way more for him already, and you just can’t get rid of the feeling that you have to make him happy… that you have to protect him.”

“He has to grow up sometime”, Cuddy said with a smile, making him snort amusedly.

“Yeah, I know. But until that happens…”

“We protect him.”

_And who will protect us?_

“Yep.”

“Actually that’s Hannah’s job right now… at least until we are in Jersey again. Then I have to make sure he doesn’t insult too many patients while playing with them, while you get to be his conscience.”

“You mean… we have a few hours for us”, Wilson grinned.

“Yup. And I think I’ll lose some money at the blackjack table.”

“You could be my lucky charm at the dices.”

Blue eyes focused on him over the edge of her glass.

“I could, yeah”, she said before taking another sip.

 

***

 

Running his long fingers over her body House felt the need to actually congratulate himself. If somebody had told him he would be in the honeymoon suite, kissing his wife against the entrance door six months ago he would have called him an idiot. Actually he would have whacked him with his cane and then called him an idiot.

If anybody had told him he would ever feel the need to legalize his relationship he would have thrown the person out of his office. After whacking him or her with his cane, of course.

But right now his cane was lying on the floor next to a white dress, next to her underwear, next to his jacket and shirt.

Right now he was kissing his wife.

“My wife…”, he whispered, actually liking the sound of it. Hannah opened her eyes and watched him with that coal black of her eyes.

“I know I’m being a wuss right now”, he added, also whispered, before claiming her lips once more, feeling the corners of her mouth curl upwards while his hands aimed for her breasts, being greeted by erect nipples, causing a feeling on his palms that seemed to make its way directly to his groin.

“But you are my wuss”, was her answer when he had to come up for air, while drawing her closer, letting her feel what she was doing to him with him only touching her.

“Damn right!” he growled against the skin on her neck, making her laugh while his kisses wandered deeper, stopping at the bitemark he had left the night before, running his tongue over it.

“Sorry for that…”

“Well… I left a hickey on the inside of your left thigh…”

And the scratches on his back would make a klingon proud.

Since he was still busy with those two, she caressed through his hair before letting her hands slide down his neck, shoulders and chest, smiling when he shivered at her grazing over his abs before grabbing his belt.

This man had absolutely no confidence in his pants was one uncoherent thought that ran through her brain before it was occupied with the task to open said thing while he was still playing with her breasts. She wondered sometimes why he was so obsessed with them, most of her former partners found them nice, but nothing too special. They were firm and maybe a tad too small, but when he cupped them with his hands or ran his tongue over a painfully erect nipple that really didn’t matter.

Leaning her head against the door she enjoyed his affections, her hands still gripping at the open belt but not doing anything else.

His right hand was running down her waist to her left thigh, bringing it up against his body, making her realize that she was moaning silently with every circle his tongue made.

Letting go off the belt she finally aimed for the button of his pants, growling silently when he pulled her even closer, making her feel his arousal not only against her hands that seemed to be unable to find this tiny thing. A low growl escaped her when she finally managed to open the button, letting his pants fall down to his ankles. His hand roughly held her thigh in place when she pushed his boxers down, one hand grabbing at the hard length, making him groan against her skin, biting down on one taunt nipple to make her cry out in surprise.

His eyes were dark with lust when he lifted his gaze to check he hadn’t hurt her, his other  hand abandoning her breast but disappearing in the waterfall of auburn hair, pulling her head close.

“Why am I always the one with his pants hanging at his knees…?” he asked, making her giggle before kissing her hard.

“God… I want you so bad”, he groaned after breaking the kiss, moving even closer when her only answer was to run a finger down his shaft and up to the tip.

“Then lets go to the bed…”, Hannah suggested, frowning at him when he didn’t let go but nudged her even more against the door, his penis teasing her wet entrance in a way that made her knees go weak.

“Greg…”

He kissed her firmly before locking his gaze with hers.

“I don’t want to do this in the bed…”

 

***

 

Ordering another drink Wilson watched Cuddy sip on her cocktail.

“How are you taking it?” he asked silently, watching her almost choke on the liquid.

“Wha… What?” she asked, coughing a little.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. How should I be ‘taking it’?”

“Come on. The whole hospital knows that you have a soft spot for House, no matter how much he’s annoying you.”

Cuddy grimaced at him.

“Look at who is saying that.”

“Be honest. Ever sleep with him?”

By now he could tell she was pissed off. Yet he always wondered why she was keeping him, fighting for him lying for him, no matter who wanted to kick him out of her hospital. And even though House loved spreading rumors, they never told him anything about the man himself. Concerning House you were better off with guessing than actually hoping on any information.

“I don’t think that this is any of your business, Wilson.”

“So you did.”

“James Wil…!” the dean of PPTH started a tirade but was cut off.

“You never get mad when he asks you that sort of questions.”

“Because he doesn’t mean it. It’s always a distraction from what he really wants.”

“He told you that, too?” Wilson snapped. It was his job to be the best buddy.

“No, he didn’t tell me that. But it doesn’t need a genius to figure it out. I’m there to secure his job, nothing more. At least that I can do after…”

Her voice trailed off and she was taking another sip while Wilson scrutinized her through narrowed eyes.

“After what? You didn’t do anything to him. He’s making _your_ life miserable.”

“Yeah. But I crippled him.”

 

***

 

Grabbing onto his shoulders to not lose the rest of her balance she had on only one leg Hannah sent House a questioning look.

“Don’t look at me like this. If it hurts too much we’ll go down on the floor, and I’ll be on top, because I really have a carpet burn”, House groaned against her mouth, making her smile.

“You talk too much.”

“Is that another way to tell me…”, he trailed off, seeing her nodd and smile at the same time while the thigh he was still holding onto pushed him even more to her, making her groan when he once more made contact with her soft mound.

This time not holding back he slowly entered her, a low growl rumbling in his throat while her thigh wandered up his hip, urging him towards her.

His first lazy thrust made her reach out, trying to find something to hold onto while she was pushed up to the tips of her toes, finally having to hold onto his soulders again or she would have fallen.

“S’okay…”, he murmured before claiming her lips again, his arms locking around her back for another, more forceful thrust, eliciting a “God…”

He knew it would hurt afterwards, now the pain being dulled by all sorts of endorphins rushing through his body, but it sure as hell was worth it.

Hearing her whimper these small sounds he liked so much when he increased his pace let him forget that there was this dent in his thigh, while his body convinced its weakest link that it had to shut up for once.

Fully scooting her up he moaned loudly when she closed both of her legs around his back, arching towards him to grant him full access to her breasts again while she clawed her fingers on the top of the door.

 

***

 

“The infaction crippled him.” Wilson intently looked at the woman next to him.

“The unnoticed infarction.”

“You weren’t even on his case when it happened.”

“Yeah. He had to diagnose himself!”

“If he hadn’t been the ass he always is his doctors maybe would have found out earlier. Have you thought about that yet?”

“If his doctors had been a little bit more like him they wouldn’t have cared how he behaved but nevertheless diagnosed him.”

Wilson stared at her in utter disbelief.

“Wait, are you trying to tell me that you think his methods are…?”

“I don’t appreciate his methods. But he gets the job done, and most of the time without prejudices. Where most of us see a junkie or a homeless person who is just looking for a warm night, he just sees the puzzle… and most of the time he is right.” Cuddy by now was playing with the umbrella in her nearly finished drink.

“I think you’ve had enough… he also sees them as junkies or homeless people, and they only get his interest when he thinks they are seriously ill and he gets another rare disease for his score. Otherwise they are just junkies or homeless people.”

“I know that. Nevertheless I think… sometimes it’s better to see just the disease and not the person behind it. Sometimes it makes everything way easier.”

“He also gets the person behind it. For that he has his fellows. For him it’s easier this way.” Wilson looked at the woman, thinking hard about what he had said.

“For how hard you are fighting against him sometimes you have a pretty big soft spot for him”, he then stated, finishing his drink.

“As if I’m the only one”, Cuddy replied, also drinking the rest of her cocktail.

“So. Blackjack or Dices first?” she then asked.

 

***

 

“Greg… harder…”

He fulfilled her wish, in the back of his mind reminding himself that they had to go back to the slow and teasing department once in a while. As much as he loved the urgent, needy lovemaking of the last two days, exploring her, making her whimper when he touched her never ceased to amaze him and was just as sastifying… but didn’t leave them sore and exhausted in the morning.

Licking over the bitemark he noticed that she had let go of the doorframe, the only thing stabilizing her against the door being him.

“You… don’t know how long… I wanted to do this…”, he grunted with his thrusts, finding it really hard to put the words into an order that made sense. Her weight in his arms, her skin glistening with sweat, damp ringlets of her hair clinging to her face, her words urging him on…

When she hugged him even closer the feeling of her hot, wet walls flutter against him sent a shiver down his spine, making his rhythm unsteady against hers.

“Har…der…”

With one powerfull thrust he shut her up, feeling her inner muscles gripping at him with a force that nearly knocked him off his feet while a groan rumbled in his throat. Repeating his movement he had her scream an inarticulate sound while her fingernails dug into his shoulders.

One more thrust made her scream his name, leaving him on autopilot when he felt her trembling around him, barely able to hold her when she bucked against him.

He lasted two more thrusts before his release let him forget his own name, his scream muffled by her lips crashing onto his.

 

***

 

“I think you should stop now…”, Wilson said while looking at the pile of jetons in front of his boss. He had set himself a limit of 200 Dollars and lost them already, Cuddy was having a bit more luck.

“I have a rush”, she said, locking her pale blue eyes with his warm, brown ones and he sighed.

“Yeah. And you know how it ends, every time a person says something like that in TV.”

Narrowing her eyes on him she thought about it.

And decided that he was right.

“Okay. I will stop. And you get half of it.”

“No.. I didn’t…”, Wilson tried to protest but got himself a glare.

“You were the lucky charm. Don’t argue with me right now.”

At that the oncologist laughed, nodding in surrender while he helped her gather her pile.

“And what are we doing with that? Are you inviting me for a drink, or the other way round?” he asked but instead of the smile he expected he got an earnest expression of the dean of medicine.

“I don’t think that is a good idea. You know how it ends when someone suggests something like that in TV”, she said.

“Yes. But in our case we have a certain diagnostician who will assume anyway that we got drunk and spent the night with each other.”

“So lets prove him wrong.” Cuddy said, not being surprised when his face slightly fell, even though he tried to hide it while walking over to the guy who would change plastic into real money.

“You can buy me one more drink, and then I suggest we go to our rooms. We have a flight tomorrow morning.”

Seeing him nod she silently sighed.

“And I don’t want to be just a roll in the hay. Not anymore…”


	12. Perfect world...

Lisa Cuddy was surprised when the door to the honeymoon suite was opened only a moment before she could actually knock, being greeted by an equally surprised and, what confused her a bit, fully dressed Greg House.

“Cuddy… what are you doing here? Jimmy kicked you out of his room already?” he asked while closing the door behind him, stepping out in the hallway.

Cuddy sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Nothing happened. I just wanted to tell you that we’re leaving with the next flight… and that you can have two or three days off… for honeymoon, if you’d like to”, she told him, being confused when he started to walk up the hallway, frowning when she noticed that the limp was more pronounced.

“Is everything okay, House?”

“It’s nothing… I just… forgot about the leg for a short time, and payback’s a bitch.” Walking back up to his boss he whinced before stopping, taking his Vicodin tube out of the front pocket of his jeans. Seeing that it was full Cuddy frowned at him while he took out two pills, dryswallowing them.

“You came to me for a refill only two days ago… I think I should have a word with Wilson.”

He made a face at her.

“That is the refill from two days ago. I emptied the old one, and then I was busy with marrying…”

That got him a surprised expression.

“You’re cutting them back?”

“I’m… trying. Sometimes moving alone makes it better.”

“That is great!” Cuddy beamed at him, the smile fading when she realized that his expression had not changed.

“Most of the time I just wait until it is unbearable… to the point I know one pill will still help instead of two.”

Thinking of her conversation with Wilson she knew what would be coming now. Nice House was yesterday. This time it was one-pill-doesn’t-help-anymore House

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, knowing that she actually didn’t want to know the answer.

“Because… in a perfect world I would be inside the honeymoon suite right now, ignoring your knocking to tell us you were leaving… in a perfect world I could carry my wife over the threshold.”

Of course he had to say something like that. After all they had talked about yesterday, after her confession that she still felt guilty…

“In a perfect world I probably never would have met her”, House then said, surprising her for the third time this morning and she didn’t even try to hide it.

Stepping up to the door he turned around to her for a last time with his hand on the handle.

“I’ll let you know if we take the leave”, he said, letting her stand outside the honeymoon suite, thinking that in a perfect world everything would be too boring for him, making him wish the world was less perfect.

 

***

 

He woke her when he sat down on the bed to get out of his sneakers. The painkillers finally did their job… and he had been walking up and down the suite for a while now, finding it funny that she didn’t wake because of his uneven steps, but when he carefully sat down, trying not to wake her.

“You trying to run already?” she asked sleepily, making him smile.

“Nah… you used me up this night… I actually wanted to take a few steps, but ran into Cuddy right before our door and decided to make her feel miserable a bit.”

“You didn’t grill her about what she and James did this night, did you?” Scooting up in the bed she embraced him from behind, running her hands over his T-shirt-clad chest.

“Nothing happened. Wilson maybe wanted but Cuddy’s not that kind of girl…. Though that might be a great rumor.”

She nibbled on his right ear by now.

“What did you do then to make her miserable?”

“Told her how my life is different from a perfect world. Speaking of which: She offered us some days of leave for honeymoon. What do you think?”

Kissing his neck she let her tongue dart out to draw a wet line to the collar of his shirt.

“Perfect.”

 

***

 

“So… what did he say? And by the way, I am really thankful you walked up there”, Wilson asked while putting their luggage in the trunk of the cab.

“I told him that nothing happened when he asked me if you kicked me out of your room already… I think he was in too much pain to actually embarrass me”, Cuddy answered while getting in the cab, still making a thoughful face when Wilson sat next to her and the driver took off for the airport.

“Maybe he only wanted to make you feel miserable.”

“That he managed. Did you know he’s cutting back his Vicodin-consumption?”

“Yes. Though I don’t really know if that is good. I saw the pressure point and how painful it is… actually I thought Hannah was killing him back then when I heard him scream.” Shuddering at the memory of that encounter the oncologist leaned back in the seat, not looking at a confused Cuddy.

“Pressure point? I don’t think…”

“Believe me, I saw it. First he was screaming bloody murder and then I see him walking without the cane, trying to comfort Hannah…”

The look she threw him now let him realize that he had revealed too much.

“She was hurting him, so I pulled her off him and kinda… hurt her…”

“Wilson!”

“I appologized and bought them dinner. We’re fine… that evening he admitted she was his girlfriend.”

“It took him one year to…”

“Yup. His explanation is that he doesn’t have the time to dawdle.” Sighing the oncologist looked out of the window of the car.

“Sometimes I think it is good that I don’t have children. House is enough to cope with.”

Cuddy smiled sadly.

“Welcome to the club.”

 

***

 

She was slipping her hands under his shirt, slowly massaging his chest while still kissing his neck.

“How bad is it?” she whispered, making him open his eyes which he had closed when she had started her caresses.

“I just took a pill, so…”

“How loud is your brain trying to convince you that this is a mistake?” Hannah asked while her tongue darted out at that spot on his neck where she knew he was ticklish.

“How do you…”

“You’ve been awake quite a while before getting up and getting dressed. When you get up it’s bad… and you have to occupy yourself.”

House sighed when she hit the spot, never ceasing to embrace him from behind.

“I… don’t have any experience in what it means to be a good husband. Never had a role model. It doesn’t feel like a mistake, though”, he admitted, catching her hands under his shirt.

Her voice was silent next to his ear when she spoke up again, and he needed a moment to catch the amused tone.

“Well… rule number one for this husband: No hyperactive brain action in bed.”

“What?”

Kissing his neck again her hands moved for pulling off his shirt, so he obediently lifted his arms, feeling her warm lips on his back as soon as she had the fabric over his head.

“ ‘s the place for some other action”, Hannah whispered against his skin, butterfly kisses travelling down his spine while her hands reached around him and opened his belt and pants. Grabbing her hands before they could sneak inside he made her stop.

“And what action would that be?” House asked with a grin on his face, when her tongue tickled against the skin of his back and her hands, still being held on her wrists effortlessly moved to embrace him, making him lay down on his back.

“I’ll show you”, she answered, straddling him and claiming his lips.

“Should I take notes?” he wanted to know, grinning slightly against her lips, feeling hers curl upwards, too, when she slightly shook her head.

“We’ll improvise, I think…”, Hannah said, her kisses once more leaving his lips and going down his bare chest and stomach, drawing lazy circles around his navel.

Stripping him of his pants he could see her tongue dart out once more, licking her lips when she spotted the tent in his boxers, softly kissing up his left thigh.

“See something you like?” he asked in a rough voice, trying hard to keep a stern face when he saw her amused smile, only her eyes telling him that she was smiling.

“Hmmm… Maybe…”

Licking over what he could identify as the hickey from the day before her hands caressed up his legs, only grazing the sides of his hips to tickle him at his waist.

He groaned disappointed when she didn’t go for his boxers instantly but rather scurried upwards again to claim his mouth again, her tongue slowly dancing around his.

“Tease!” he managed to get out before one of her hands disappeared under the thin fabric, caressing down the hard length, making him draw a sharp breath. She just grinned against his lips.

“How’s the carpet burn?”

“Annoying.”

Butterfly kisses made their way down his throat, leaving a hickey next to his collarbone while nimble fingers made him groan again.

“Better…?”

“Hmmm… a bit… not much, though”, he got out, his eyes monitoring her trail over his stomach, grumbling in protest when her hand left his boxers, only to lift his hips obediently when she kissed him below his navel, both hands gripping at the fabric.

“How’s it now…?”

“Getting better…”

She smiled when she pulled the boxers of, being greeted by his proudly erect member and placed a quick kiss on the tip.

“And now…?”

“It’s… uhnnn…”

He never finished that sentence, her hot mouth closing around his length, making him forget that there was something like words.

 

***

 

She was placing tiny kisses on his flushed face while he just couldn’t wipe away the goofy grin.

“You know, you just wasted material”, he panted as Hannah leaned her head against his shoulder, his hand caressing her back.

“Unless…”, House mused, suddenly lifting his head from he pillow.

“Unless what?”

He looked at her for a while.

“Unless I scored already.”

That got him an amused smile.

“I’m sorry, but we were a day or so late with our make up sex… but now we can practice…”

He never let her finish that sentence, turning her under him with a growl.

“Please, as if we need practice…”

“But it’s fun… and if you don’t want to, I think I can convince my husband to practise with me…”, she grinned, making him shake his head and roll his eyes.

“So we can’t call junior ‘Honeymoon’… and you convinced your husband already”, he said, repeating her butterfly kisses from before down her torso.

“Hmmm… I’m still trying to call junior ‘Entrance door to Daddy’s office’, so…”

He silenced her with a kiss, pinning her beneath him.

 

***

 

“You know what…?”

He was caressing her hair while her hand drew circles around his right nipple.

“What…?”

“In a perfect world we’d never ever get out of this bed again…”

“Not even for food, or to go to the toilet or…?”

“Stop talking about that, I’m talking about a perfect world where you don’t need to do this.”

A thoughtfull expression appeared on her face.

“Don’t you think sex would become boring when it’s the only thing you can do?”

House smiled at that, his hand never stopping its caresses.

“So I think I should be glad this is no perfect world…”

 

***

 

It was no perfect word.

In a perfect world his cellphone wouldn’t ring in the late afternoon.

In a perfect world he wouldn’t be alarmed enough to actually answer it.

“I know, I promised you a few days off, but…”

Cuddy’s voice sounded indeed as if she meant it.

In a perfect world people wouldn’t get that sick that it needed a freak like him to figure them out.

“We can make out until the stewardess stops us”, a voice whispered in his ear, showing him the bright side.

Maybe it was not perfect.

But it wasn’t bad at least…


	13. New gun in town.

” 20-year-old married African-American female, couldn't breathe. Anaphylaxis-like throat-swelling”, Cameron told him while he was looking at the file, trying not to grin when she ogled the ring on his finger. By now she should’ve been used to it and still she couldn’t help it sometimes.

He and Hannah were married for two and a half months now, celebrating every anniversary they could make up. The one he remembered the best however was their 55 hour one.

They indeed lasted longer than Britney.

“Children?” he asked, trying not to think of his wife. Somehow they still hadn’t managed yet…

“You think a pregnancy would explain…”, Cameron asked, her mind back on the case and not on his ringfinger.

“It explains the marriage. Who the hell marries at 20?”

Cameron and Chase rolled their eyes. If they had though his marriage would soften him they’d been wrong.

“I’m guessing, people in love”, Cramer stated dryly. He was back for about four weeks now, finding it rather amusing to hear that Mommy and Daddy finally had ‘legalized their dirty relationship’, how House had called it. Somehow that showed him that not everything in the world was bad, keeping him from drowning in depression after weeks in a hospitalbed and endless sessions with a shrink.

“Show me a 20-year-old who's not in love. You get married at 20, you're going to be shocked at who you're living with at 30”, House replied, trying to catch the look in Cameron’s face when he said that but being distracted by something outside his conference room. Cameron’s feelings towards her dead husband were interesting. Wilson chatting up a nurse out there was… well, more interesting.

“No allergies, negative on the skin test, 4 days of antihistamines and steroids”, his female duckling tried to keep all of them focused on the case.

 “Who’s he talking to?”

“What?”

“It’s got an ass, technically that makes it a who”, House stated, making all of his ducklings turn around to the glass wall. Cameron rolled her eyes.

“Uhh... new nurse in Peds. Wendy something. Swelling just started to go down…”, she tried to refocus them, with no success.

“You seen her here before?” House asked and Cameron rolled her eyes again.

“Couple times. I tried following her home, but she gave me the slip.”

At that comment Chase and Cramer looked at her.

She had changed since the incident. She’d changed before, ever so slightly, barely noticable, but now her sarcasm was almost as thick as House’s, surfacing when she was annoyed, pissed… or angry.

What had shocked them the most was that Allison Cameron let them know when she was annoyed, pissed or angry.

She once again started to tell them about the swelling, but House, being House, was too occupied with what was happening outside his office.

James Wilson was talking to a nurse, making her laugh.

And he scared her away with two sentences, leaving a slightly confused Wilson standing next to him.

“Why so rude?” the oncologist asked.

“You sprinted through 3 bad marriages, into an affair with a dying patient - now a naughty nurse? How many more failed relationships are we both going to have to deal with before you learn to love yourself? And I mean that in a literal way”, House explained with a smug grin on his face.

“It's amazing how you can not only know it's a relationship but that it's a bad relationship based on nothing but... nothing”, Wilson frowned, seeing Cameron in the conference room staring daggers at her boss.

“I know you, and don’t even try to tell me that you’re not even trying to be with her, ‘cause I know you’d be lying… by the way: What are you doing this evening?”

Again, Wilson looked quite confused.

“Why?”

“Just bought X-Men 3, and you keep whining since forever you want to watch it…”

“Maybe tomorrow… Tonight I have a date”, Wilson grinned, causing House to scrutinize him.

“With the nurse?”

“I’m not with her, I’m not even trying”, Wilson used his words from before.

“You’re lying to me… that’s interesting”, House said while turning around, catching Cameron’s moody glance, never hearing Wilson mutter “As long as it’s interesting”, behind his back.

When he reentered the conference room, Cameron again tried to explain the swelling.

“Why is she hanging out here?” was all House wanted to know.

Cameron sighed.

“Is anyone interested in what happened to the swelling?”

“She’s in peds, it’s the next wing over”, House mused on.

“If you’re wondering if she is dating Wilson, ask Wilson”, the young immunologist grumped, making the male ducklings look at her.

“Clearly he did and Wilson denied it, and House doesn’t believe him. It’s gotta hurt, that's why it pays to have more than one friend, House”, Chase grinned, getting a smile from Cramer.

“If he’s not hitting that, then why is she here?” House asked, ignoring Chase’s statement.

“Because I'm hitting that and it’s totally hot!”

That made the three men turn to the only woman in the room.

“Swelling took 4 days to resolve, patient has unexplained intensive abdominal pains”, she then said, going on as if her last sentence never had happened. At least now she had their attention.

“So… explain them…”, House started, actually sitting down at the table, taking a peek in the file while Chase was walking up behind him to look into it as well. Getting a nose full of the aftershave of the other man House turned his head away, a sudden wave of nausea hitting him.

He was still fighting it down when Cramer and Cameron were done fighting about what had caused the swelling and what tests had not shown what result when Chase once again looked in the file.

“There’s pot on the tox-screen. Salmonella from the pot would explain the stomach pain.”

“At a strech, she would have fever”, Cramer objected while House got up from his chair, limping away from Chase.

“She's on steroids from the swelling therefore no fever. And the smoking explains the throat”, the Aussie explained, making the german duckling tilt his head.

“Sorry, take it back, that's a stretch”, the angiologist then said sarcastically, making the diagnostician groan.

“Got a better idea? No? Then stretch away. Start her on floroquinolone for the salmonella.”

 

***

 

The nausea didn’t go away that easy, his leg had started to hurt some time ago, and with Cuddy having found him in his office (Okay, not really the best place to hide out) now he was on his way from exam room 3 into exam room 1, throwing a quick glance at himself in one of the mirrorlike surfaces while closing the door. Finding himself a bit pale he turned around to the patient waiting in there, the man with the white-blonde hair staring at him.

“I was waiting out there for two hours”, the man complained, shoving a piece of gum in his mouth while House sat down, glancing at the file. Michael Tritter, detective.

Great. A cop… what the heck was a cop doing in a free clinic anyway?

“Fascinating. Have you considered a carreer as memorist? Let’s see it.”

The man started to unzip his pants (of course…), still staring at the diagnostician.

“You don’t introduce yourself?”

House frowned when he had to find out that the guy was wearing the same aftershave like Chase, making is stomach want to empty itself in the wrong direction.

“Sorry, I thought you were waiting 2 hours, didn't know you wanted to chat. Hi, I'm Greg. How 'bout that local sports team?”

Taking a peek at his crotch while he was shoving down his pants House added a “It’s not an infection” before Tritter had even the chance to tell him about his problem.

“How can you tell…?” was the necessary question to annoy him, making him groan and wish for some room deodorant to get this smell away.

“You want me to touch you? It’s your private place. You're chewing nicotine gum which causes dehydration which causes wear and tear. Try a lubricant or foreplay if you're cheap!” he growled, turning around to write his diagnosis down in the chart.

“Just take a swab and get it tested, okay?” Tritter insisted, making him growl again silently. He would have to hold his breath if…

“Sorry, already met this month's quota of useless tests for stubborn idiots”, he snapped, dragging his Vicodin out. If he couldn’t do anything against the nausea, then at least he could do something against the pain.

“You’re rude”, Tritter observed, getting a pair of rolled eyes.

“Wow, you're like a... detective or something…”

That made the other man grin a mean grin while he started to pull up his pants.

“And you're smart, and you're funny, but you are bitter. And you're lonely, so you treat everyone around like they're idiots and you get away with it because of your cane.”

Turning back to the chart House snorted.

“Please stop, it's hard to write through the haze of bitter tears.”

The cop just put his hands on his hips.

“But you're not actually getting away with it. Last nurse you made fun of, she probably slipped some crap into your coffee.” With that he moved closer, wanting to see what House was writing in his chart, making another wave of aftershave blow over the diagnostician, who this time hastily stood up, to get out of the nauseating cloud.

“Nyeah, I asked for decrappinated coffee”, House said with only a hint of a smirk while grabbing his cane to leave the room.

The guy kicked it out from under his grip, making him fall against the door, biting down a pained yelp.

That was new, letting him look at the cop surprised.

“Treat people like jerks, you get treated like a jerk”, Tritter stated, pleased to see his doctor limp back to his chair, wearing a resigned look on his face. When he pulled his pants down this time House took the swab.

“Thank you”, he then said jovially, surprised by the stern expression on the other man’s face when he said “Bend over.”

“You are kidding me.”

“If you have an infection, you'd have a fever. You're chewing nicotine gum which messes with the weather in your mouth so I need to vacation elsewhere”, House explained, showing him the thermometer, waiting if the guy really would do what he wanted.

He did. And let out a little yelp of pain when he _vacationed_ the thermometer.

“Wait till I put the thermometer in”, he joked, ginning at himself while still holding his breath, shaking his head when Tritter tried to turn around to see what he actually was doing.

“Uh uh, you break it, you bought it.”

With that the diagnostician left the exam room, walking over to the nurses counter to return the file.

He was surprised to meet his wife there, also handing a pile of charts over to Darla.

“Hey…”

“Hey yourself… Are you ready to head home? ‘Cause I sure as hell am”, she replied, pecking him on his lips, her eyes narrowing when she took a closer look.

“You are a bit pale.

“Well, the cop from hell has the same aftershave like Chase, always makes me wanna puke… people who kick canes out under cripples shouldn’t become cops”, he explained/whined, getting another sympathetic peck from his wife while Darla crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“He kicked at your cane?”

“Yep. By the way: Throw that away for me”, House said, handing over the swab test, before turning to Hannah again.

“Maybe it was the chinese take away yesterday… I didn’t feel so well this morning, too.”

She frowned.

“I ate the same and I feel great.”

“You didn’t have the spring rolls. It’s not that bad, really.”

She just smiled at him.

“Can’t blame me for worrying. I intend to keep you for a while, you know”, she said with a wink, making House grin and turn to nurse Darla again.

“She only wants me for my body.”

“That’s what I always assumed. Is the cop still in there? You could order me to shove a thermometer up his…”

House grinned at his loyal nurse.

“Already done. Wait a couple of minutes. I’m sure as hell not going in there again. That aftershave really makes me wanna puke.”

Darla nodded an okay and waved her goodbyes while the two doctor Houses separated  with another peck to get their stuff.

When she walked into the exam room the cop was still bent over but definitely debating about taking the things in his own hands.

“Where’s my doctor?” he barked, making her smile an extra sweet smile.

“I’m sorry, he is not feeling well. He didn’t want to insult you but he seems to be allergic to you aftershave. I’ll make sure you can leave soon.”

Michael Tritter let out another yelp of pain when the nurse removed the thermometer.

 

***

  
”You’re not hot…”

A small hand on his forehead made him frown.

“Great, thanks, that’s just what a guy needs to hear from his wife”, House snorted, taking her hand in his while snuggling next to her on the couch, the TV showing one of the cartoons she always seemed to be watching. Right now he was just feeling fine, with her halfway under him, his head resting on her stomach.

“You know what I meant, Greg!”

“Yup. I just don’t understand the hipe…”

“You not feeling well for three days is not a hipe”, Hannah stated, again running her hand over his forehead.

“How do you know…?” was the surprised answer while he lifted his head from her stomach.

“Well, I’m living with you… if you hadn’t told me today, I would have used some guerrilla tactics to make you admit it”, she answered with a smile, making him shake his head.

“As much as I would like you to do that… I’m spent… laying on top of you is way too comfortable”, he said, resting his head on her belly again, his hands caressing up her sides.

Nimble fingers left his forehead, caressing through his hair while she turned her attention back to the TV.

“The cop really kicked at your cane?” she asked silently after a while, getting a sleepy “Hmmm”, as answer.

“What did you do?”

At that he lifted his head.

“What makes you assume I did something?”

“Hmmm… I think you being you is enough. What did he say?”

House sighed.

“I diagnosed him, he wanted me to take a swab and I told him that it was a useless test…”

“Which I think was more colorful, but still no reason to kick your cane out under you. He could have seriously hurt you.” She never stopped running her fingers through his hair and he briefly thought that if he were a cat he would have purred loudly by now.

“I fell against the door, took the swab and then you were already there, worrying about me. By the way: He thinks I am smart and funny.”

Hannah laughed at that.

“He didn’t say that.”

“He did. And obviously I’m also bitter, and lonely and treat everyone like idiots because of that and get away with it because of my cane.”

“Hmmm… and I thought I had taken care of the bitter and lonely. And you get away with it most of the time because of your cane, and you know that.”

House grinned at his wife, closing his arms around her.

“Well… I felt very lonely in there when the mean cop told me that nobody loved me and Darla was putting crap in my coffee…”

“Darla would never do that, she loves you! You pulled that toy out of her grandson’s nose…”

“Come on, he can’t be good, didn’t even see the ring on my finger. The most stupid nurse in the hospital had seen it the moment I arrived when Cuddy needed me…”

Hannah laughed.

“I know. You let them wonder three days if you really married me, or if we broke up and you ended up marrying a hooker in Vegas.”

“Please… why should I marry a hooker… you can do things they wouldn’t do for all the money in the world.”

That got him a frown.

“And that would be?”

House looked at her thoughtfully.

“Cuddle with that old, seasick thing on the couch…”, he then said, closing his arms even tighter around her, resting his head against her stomach again.


	14. Front and center

She woke with the sound of the bathroom door falling into the lock and his uneven gait slowly approaching the bed. Opening her eyes she observed how her husband crawled back into the bed, rolling himself to a ball.

“Greg? Are you okay?”

“Unnuh…”, was the grumbled answer and she sat up in the bed alarmed, to look at the man next to her.

“Greg…?”

“Don’t feel so hot right now”, was his answer while he turned to her, immediately feeling her small hand on his forehead.

“You don’t have a fever… maybe you caught something…”

Shaking his head House groaned, the movement not corresponding very well with his hyperactive stomach nerves.

“ ‘s not a cold… maybe I ate something wrong… don’t you think those anchovis on the pizza yesterday looked… funny?”

With a groan he fully turned on his back, one arm over his eyes, shielding them against the dim light shining into their bedroom.

“I didn’t eat them, and I still have not clue why you did. Thought you didn’t like anchovis.”

“I don’t. Don’t know why I wanted them yesterday…”

She was just caressing through his hair.

“Can I do something? Breakfast in bed…?”

“God, no!” he exclaimed, a second later relativating his answer.

“It would be nice, if I weren’t sure it would end up in the toilet, sorry…”

“Greg…”

“Just… let me try to fall asleep again… it’ll get better…”

She just slid down against his back, closing her arms around him.

 

***

 

“That cheating bastard!”

Sitting on a bench outside the patients’ room House leaned his head back against the wall while Cramer told him about the condoms they had found in the now also sick husband’s jacket. The german sighed. Chase was right with assuming their boss would react this way.

“He loves her”, he insisted, getting a ‘yeah, sure’-look.

“Right, I bet he told you she’s the love of his life.”

“People lie, I get it, but they don’t go up against two armed gunmen to save someone unless…”

“There’s a reason that we don’t let kids vote or drink or work in the salt mines. They’re idiots! 20-year-olds fall in and out of love more often than they change their oil filters. Which they should do more often”, House growled. He was feeling better, his stomach not troubling him anymore, but since he didn’t know why he woke up for a sprint to the bathroom he was cranky since he got into work.

“Gonorrhea explains all their symptoms. Fitz-Hugh Curtis syndrome for her belly pain, Costochondritis and bladder infection for his chest and abdominal pain”, was all that Chase wanted to say to the topic and he just ordered the tests that were necessary.

 

***

 

Cramer caught up with him when Cuddy just had ordered him into her office.

As if he didn’t know why…

Marching next to him his angiologist told him about the results.

“No scarring, no purulent discharge, and the NATs were negative. They don’t have an STD.”

House sighed.

“What’s that, you say? You have a problem with interracial couples?”

“Oh, so Chase told you about the incident? Just because I’m german…”

“God, no… Haven’t any of your shorties been a bit chocolaty?”

Cramer rolled his eyes.

“Not sure I understand your ghetto slang, Dr. House. How many black women have you dated, by the way?”

House grinned at him.

“I don’t care about color. As long as they can help me breed a superior race…”

Which actually his wife could do… although it was her who was the superior race.

Cramer smiled at that, shaking his head, before getting serious again.

“The abdominal pain’s getting worse. We’ve had to up their morphine twice.”

His hand resting on the door handle to Cuddy’s office House made his thinking face.

“Take the wife off the steroids. If she spikes a fever, we’ll know it’s an infection. If she doesn’t, it’s environmental”, he then said before entering the lioness’s den.

 

***

 

“He got off easy. I almost gave him a colonoscopy.”

Cuddy sighed, almost putting her hands on her hips, but since she was sitting in her chair that would have looked really funny. Instead she glared at him who wasn’t really paying attention to her but rifling through her waste.

“That was one of the stupidest things you have ever done, and there is heavy competition for… What are you doing?

“Hmm, only ate half your breakfast. Feeling a little sick this morning?”

Lisa Cuddy rolled her eyes at that comment. She never ever should have conifided him of all people in on her wish to have a child…

“They burnt my omelette. You need to apologize to this guy!”

He still wasn’t paying attention, but looked at her briefly.

“I’m a man of principle. I don’t care how much time and money it costs you to defend me.”

“He wants to kill you!”

“No empty coffee cups. Off the caffeine. Good for baby”, House stated, his glance still in her waste.

Cuddy sighed again, supressing a growl, supressing the urge to snap her fingers in front of his eyes.

“Cup’s in the other wastebasket, baby’s in your mind! You can berate patients all you want. Shoving objects into their rectums is assault. Pay attention to me.”

“Sorry, that would make it harder to ignore you. Can’t ignore that rapidly expanding first trimester ass, though”, he grinned, seeing her annoyed face at that comment.

“Sometimes an ass is just an ass. You are not always right, House. Apologize to the guy!”

Watching him limp out of her office the dean of PPTH sighed.

If he knew…

 

***

 

“Maybe we didn’t and it’s sarcoidosis!”

Man, these two kids really were a puzzle, the wife now having gone into a delirium, leaving Cameron to talk about environment while Cramer was thinking about two different diseases.

Chase stood nearby, his arms crossed before his chest.

“Sarcoidosis isn’t infectious or environmental”, Cramer stated.

“Tell that to the clusters of sarcoidosis cases.”

By now Chase made an amused face and moved into his direction. Running a hand over his face House tried to turn away, feeling his stomach react to the smell of his duckling’s aftershave again.

“Firefighters and residents of pine tar forests?” his Aussie asked, a confused expression on his face when House moved away.

“I did see these two putting out that blaze in the Pine Barrens”, Cramer pointed out sarcastically, making House roll his eyes.

“If sarcoidosis has two environmental causes, it has environmental causes. We just don’t know all of them yet. Husband’s chest. He has slightly enlarged hylar lymph nodes. Sarcoidosis explains almost all of their symptoms, including her getting worse off the steroids”, he explained.

Cameron shook her head at that.

“It doesn’t explain his throat swelling.”

“That’s what ‘almost’ means.”

“90 percent of sarcoidosis cases have lung scarring”, she pointed out, seeing him move away even farther.

“Oh, 90 percent?”

“Well, almost”, his female duckling smiled, looking as confused as her male colleagues when he left his office through the balcony door.

“Fine. I’ll consult a specialist.”

Wilson had seen him climb over the small wall dividing his balcony from House’s and stopped his work when the diagnostician marched into his office, a scowl on his face.

“If this is more dating advice…”

“I’d love to gossip, but I have work to do.”

Handing him the scan he put on an asking face.

“Is this sarcoidosis?”

Looking at it Wilson shook his head.

“It’s pretty nonspecific. Could be granulomas, could be plaques. Is that all you are here about?”

Taking a deep breath House decided that Wilson’s aftershave was bearable, so he could stay a minute or two before his kids would get nervous.

“What’s going on between you and Cuddy?”

“Wha… nothing!”

“Then tell me who you dated yesterday?”

“That’s actually none of your business. Why do you worry anyhow, you have a wife now to annoy.”

“Well… wouldn’t have her end up as Mrs. Ex-Wilson number 4.”

“ ‘Cause then you would have to break up another of my marriages?”

The oncologist knew that the green eyed monster was resurfacing again, but couldn’t stop it. House had found what he wanted, and now was trying to…

“I didn’t try to break up your marriages, you did that yourself”, House defended himself, not really knowing how he had gotten himself into that conversation.

“My marriages were so crappy because I was spending all my time with you. Your real fear is me having a good relationship”, Wilson growled, not seeing the frown on his friend’s face.

“Yes, that keeps me up at night. That and the Loch Ness monster, global warming, the Yeti, and other fictional concepts. Although a big, romantic weekend in the Poconos could change everything.”

By now the oncologist stared at him confusedly, pointing at himself and House. At that both men started to laugh.

“She likes Jazz. Just try not to marry her then and there”, the diagnostician stated, getting a frown as answer.

“Says the man who married his wife after not even half a year. And that is not sarcoidosis.”

“You forgot to point out that we slept with each other without even knowing each other’s name”, House exclaimed while climbing over the wall back onto his balcony.

Before walking into his office he took a deep breath.

“He says it’s sarcoidosis…”

 

***

 

He was woken by the smell of coffee and his bed shifting.

“Good morning, baby. I made breakfast”, Hannah said, seeing him turn around onto his pillow.

“Just pour it into the toilet, ‘s going to end up there anyway”, was the muffled answer and she put both cups down on her nightstand, reaching for him.

“Greg… I’m really starting to get worried… Why don’t you…”

“See a doctor? Come on… I’d have diagnosed myself already, but it’s just nausea… maybe I’m really seasick.”

“Yeah… must be those waves in the harbour…”

House groaned.

“Don’t use that word…”

“Though you shouldn’t be seasick, since all the big boats have stabilizers, decreasing the rolling…”

“Stop using words like that…”

“Greg… our bed is no boat. Maybe you should just stay at home.”

“And have Cuddy look at me as if me being sick was the dumbest excuse since Noah built the arc…”

“And that would bug you because…?” Placing her hand on his forehead Hannah once more discovered that he didn’t run a fever.

“She wants me to apologize to the cop… and I still have this couple dying.”

He tried to snuggle back into his pillow, taking deep breaths, but wasn’t prepared for the reaction of his wife.

“You sure as hell will not apologize to that jerk!”

Easing himself up he looked at her, her cheeks actually burning with rage.

“Hannah…”

“You. Will. Not. Apologize.”

“I didn’t plan on it. Why…?”

“He could have hurt you. He deserved it. And I don’t like him.”

“You don’t even know the guy, baby”, he replied, gathering her in an embrace.

 

***

 

This time he was not really late, given the fact that the bike made it through the morning traffic without being stuck in a pile up. He had stayed away as far as possible from Chase this day, and it was actually helping against the need to vomit.

On the other hand he was just too preoccupied with the wife dying and the husband being stubborn, so he didn’t have time for not feeling good but stalked down to Cuddy’s office.

“I need a court order to biopsy this woman’s brain”, he exclaimed in front of her office the moment he saw her come out, looking at him a bit surprised.

“I was just going to call you”, she replied, moving for her to follow him into her office.

“And speaking of litigation…”

He had to suppress a growl when he saw who was standing in there.

“Michael Tritter, you know Dr. House. You guys can talk here”, Cuddy pointed out, while closing the door as she left her office.

Both men stared at each other.

“I don’t want to sue you”, Tritter finally started.

“Good.”

“I want to beat the crap out of you”, the cop continued, making House tilt his head.

“Less good.”

“I’ll tell you why. You’re a bully. And bullies, they don’t back down until they run into someone stronger and meaner”, the guy stated, walking up to him. House rolled his eyes when he could smell him again.

“But you’ll accept an apology”, the diagnostician stated, moving out of the cloud surrounding the cop.

“Yes.”

“Not really a recipe for sincerity.”

“I’m not looking for sincerity. I’m looking for humiliation. Something that will make you think twice before you treat the next patient like crap.”

And he wanted to get that by threatening a cripple to beat the crap out of him…

House put on a stern look.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen: you go brag to your friends about how you made the big, nasty doctor go poop in his pants, I get Cuddy off my back by telling her I humiliated myself, here’s the catch – we’re both gonna be lying. I’m not apologizing. If anything, you deserved a bigger thermometer!”

With that he left the office, going to hunt down his ducklings.

 

***

 

“Hey…”

Looking up from his current results House looked up to find his wife leaning at his entrance door.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Darla told me that the cop was here again… and I think I need a kiss or something”, she smiled while closing the distance, being actually pulled onto his lap.

“Only one?”

She pecked him on his lips briefly.

“What did he say?”

“That was no kiss!” House complained, claiming her lips until they both were gasping for air.

“I still want to know what the cop said”, Hannah insisted, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Wanted me to humiliate myself. I told him he needed a bigger thermometer. Kiss!”

She had just lifted her head when the ducklings stormed into his office, by now quite accustomed to find their boss and his wife in there cuddling.

“The bowel’s not dead”, Cramer announced, handing him the results.

“Unless he’s been tossing down cans of frosty lactic acid, the bowel is dead. What we’re looking for is a reason why it’s dead.”

“The bowel’s not dead. Just general swelling and edema. The high lactate was probably from stress. We just sliced him open from chest to pubic bone for nothing”, his angiologist insisted.

“Nothing’s something. Forget the isochemia. Add the edema and swelling.”

“Probably from cutting him open”, Chase pointed out, looking a bit offended when Hannah turned her head away to rest her nose in the crook of House’s neck.

“Probably, not definitely. Okay, back to the beginning. What did we talk about? Anything, I want to hear it all again”, House ordered, running his hand up and down her back.

“Allergies, doesn’t fit at all now”, Cameron started, her eyes on his hand.

“STDs, maybe we got the wrong one. What about syphilis, neurological symptoms…”, Chase started but was cut off by Cramer.

“He wasn’t cheating on her!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love of his life. Don’t you have to wait ‘till he’s dead to make that determination? Or be me and my wife?” House sarkastically asked, getting a giggle of Hannah against his shoulder.

The ducklings just rolled their eyes.

“She’s his only girlfriend ever. They grew up next door. They ran off together as teenagers. Sarcoidosis. We only ruled it out because we thought he had isochemic…”, Cramer started, this time being cut off by Hannah who sat up on House’s lap.

“Why did they run off?”

“Ah… what difference does that…”

“Kids talk about running off, not many do it. What was the reason?”

“They were trying to escape his evil, pill-popping, racist dad. We should do another biopsy”, Cramer stated while House was looking at his wife.

“How’d you know the dad was a racist?” he then asked.

“He beat up his son for dating a black girl. Extrapolated from that…”

“You see racism everywhere. Maybe he just didn’t like this black girl”, House pointed out, reaching for the files on his desk, looking at the photos in there.

“It’s not sarcoid. We would have seen granulomas in…”, Cameron started a differential, again being cut off.

“She has pretty eyes. Forget infectious. Forget environmental. Defective DNA is keeping them from making a critical protein, hence the fluid build-up. Hits the throat, stomach, chest, and brain.”

“Angioedema?” his female duckling deduced, frowning at him.

“Hereditary Angioedema. Symptoms fit perfectly”, Hannah pointed out before House had the chance to say a word, getting confused looks from everwhere now.

Chase was the first to speak

“It’s an incredibly rare disease. They would both have to have a parent…”

“Is it a coincidence that your sister has great hair, or that these two have green eyes?” House said while starting again to caress his wife’s back.

“You’re not saying… they’re not brother and sister?”

“Ew, God, no! That would be sick. Half-brother and sister. Different moms. Dad must have had an affair with her mom. That’s why he flipped out when the kids started dating, he had it himself, probably explains the pills. And don’t even tell me that we don’t know for sure. Test them for HAE or paternity. It’s going to take a day. She doesn’t have a day. Start treating and see what happens”

The ducklings flew away, leaving him and Hannah alone.

“You smell that, too?”

“God, yes… I wonder why nobody tells him he stinks.”

Pecking her on her lips House grinned at her.

“What?”

“Well… trust a genetics chick to drag out something hereditary…”

“Always glad to help… you going home with me?”

At that he shook his head.

“I think I’ll wait for the results… I’ll take the bike…”

 

***

 

So they were brother and sister. Or better: Half-brother and sister.

And he practically had to order Cramer to tell them, threaten to do it himself.

And right now a frozen pizza and the warm body of his wife really sounded good.

Thinking of that he sat on his bike on his way home, out of the corner of his eye noticing a sign when police sirenes went on behind him.

Rolling his eyes at himself  he stopped, getting off his bike to take a look at the cop in civil climbing out of the car.

With a sigh he took off his helmet.

“If you’ve come to return the thermometer, don’t bother. I’ve moved on.”

Tritter just grinned at him.

“If you’d actually read my chart, you’d know that I’m a cop. You were going 40 in a 25 zone. (I don’t know how that is handled in the US, but here in Germany you need at least two cops, a radar photo or a video as evidence. Because sure as hell not even the police has standardized tachos.)”

House sighed.

“Oh, come on. This isn’t because I was speeding, it’s because I’m Latino.”

This time the cop sent him a humorless smile.

“License, registration, proof of insurance.”

Pointing at his leather jacket House shrugged his shoulders.

“Sorry, cool jacket. Only pockets for important stuff.”

“That’s a shame.”

When Tritter approached him, House sighed again.

“50 buck ticket. Is that your way of beating me up, or is that the price for sticking something in you?”

The humorless smile was still in place.

“You took a pill while examining a patient, that’s serious addictive behavior. I’m betting that you’re high right now.”

“I wasn’t weaving, I’m not drunk, you’ve got no reason to…”

“Pupils dilated, appear to be under the influence of a narcotic. Would you mind turning around, please, and putting your hands behind your head?”

Staring at the man House frowned.

“Does that polite crap ever work on people?”

With that Tritter grabbed him, turning him around to pull his hands up behind his head

“Most people realize that there’s only one answer”, he then said, reaching into the pocket of House’s jacket, pulling out some pills.

“Got a prescription?”

“I’m a cripple who works in a hospital. You don’t think I’ve got a valid prescription?” House snapped, making Tritter behind him growl.

“Arrogant son-of-a-bitch like you? Oh, I bet you didn’t bother. You are under arrest for possession of narcotics.” Cuffing the doctor he looked for a frightened expression but only got a stare.

“I want a blood test”, House growled, knowing that he took his last Vicodin this morning only to find out that it didn’t match well with his stomach thing.

“You have the right to remain silent, which you should take advantage of for once in your life. If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law”, Tritter growled back before moving him to the car.


	15. Get off my cloud!!!

Coming out of the police station the next late morning House was greeted by Wilson.

“What the hell took you so long?” the diagnostician grumped, taking the tube of Vicodin his friend handed him but put it in the pocket of his jacket. The guy in the holding cell had done his share to him feeling ‘seasick’ again.

“Sorry, I didn't have 15 grand in my loose change jar, nor did your wife whom I had to calm down eventually. What the hell did you do?”

House just shrugged while following him to the car.

“Nothing.”

“The motorcycle was impounded, that explains the speeding, DUI and driving without a license. The fact that you're you explains the illegal possession of narcotics and resisting arrest. What happened?”

“Some idiot cop with crotch rot obviously thought that I didn't treat him with the deference due to a man of his stature. Trumped up a traffic stop, next thing I know I'm sharing a cage with a guy who thinks that showers are the way the devil gets inside you”

Wilson sighed.

“Does Cuddy know?”

The diagnostician just shrugged again.

“She doesn’t need to. I’m innocent.”

“Till proven guilty.”

“The guy wanted to punish me, he did. It’s over.”

“Better get yourself a lawyer”, Wilson adviced while getting into his car.

“I already got one.”

“Ah… You know what they say about the lawyer who has himself as a client?”

“Uh yah… But I was thinking about my mother in law… kick ass lawyer… and if Hannah looks that good with 65, I might never wanna die.”

 

***

 

“What if he was in a motorcycle accident?” Cameron asked, nervously looking at the entrance door of the conference room. House maybe wasn’t early… but he never was this late…

“That explains the coma, but how'd he get back in bed? Ahhh! Cameron's talking about House!”, Cramer mocked, over time getting some insight in the relationship of his boss and his only female colleague.

“Did you ever see how he drives?”

“No, WE haven't”, Chase stated.

“But he’s been popping less pills in the past few days… maybe he’s detoxing somewhere, or in a coma…”

As if on clue House walked into his conference room, snarking a “If I am, this is one lame hallucination”, before heading into his office to get his bag with his spare clothing, ignoring the looks his minions sent him.

“What happened to you?” Chase dared to ask first.

“If you ever end up in a bar with a Cambridge woman's heavyweight eight, do not accept the offer of an upside-down kamikaze shot”, was the sarcastic reply, telling them to leave him alone with this topic.

“We have a case”, Cameron stated and House nodded.

“Fat guy in coma, I know.”

“Cuddy found you?” How else could he know…?

“Nope, but the wall between Wilson's office and this one is thinner than you think, which means we need to stop talking about what a pathetic loser he is. Start treating Jabba for Pickwickian Syndrome. His 96 double Zs are probably putting pressure on his chest suffocating him.”

“CO2 and oxygen stats are normal”, Cramer pointed out, burying his nose in the file. House just shrugged his shoulders.

“For you and me, what's normal for a hippopotamus?”

Getting annoyed looks from everyone he decided to just end this conversation.

“Get a detailed medical history.”

“From who? He was brought in alone.”

“And I doubt a guy who weighs 600 pounds bothers with annual physicals.”

At that House sighed. Right now he really had more important things to do than discuss this overweight guy who probably had a disease related to nothing.

“Talk to the neighbours, search the house. Let's see what else Shamu's been up to besides eating. This conversation is over because I have officially run out of clever things to call the guy”, he ordered before heading out of his conference room.

 

***

 

He actually startled her when he walked into her office, casually saying “Hi”, while leaning against the doorframe.

Hannah jumped up from her chair, her expression changing from startled to relieved to angry, finally settling on relieved.

Walking up to him she wordlessly let him pull her into an embrace before starting to talk.

“I was terrified when you didn’t come home…”

“I’m sorry. Tritter thought it was funny to pull me over and arrest me for possession of narcotics.”

“I already talked to my mother, she said she’d take care of it… Why didn’t you want me to pick you up?”

With her head resting against his shoulder her voice sounded muffled and he ran a hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her when he didn’t even know if she needed soothing.

“Because you would have decapitated the guy.”

“Within seconds”, she replied, closing her arms tighter around him.

After a while he losened his embrace to look at her.

“Take you to lunch?”

He got a nod and a kiss, wondering why she was behaving so soft.

 

***

 

They were walking past the entrance to the clinic when House looked up, seeing a familiar person stand there. Throwing his wife a glance he straightened his back, stopping at the counter where Darla was looking up, frowning at the cop.

“I’ll meet you in the cafeteria”, he said to Hannah who started to protest.

“No, I…”

He just sent her a look, making her mumble “If he arrests you again, I’m going to decapitate him, no matter what you say”, before nodding towards Darla and heading for their lunch.

“I see spending a night in jail hasn't humbled you a bit”, Tritter said, getting a frown and then a grin as answer.

“While following my every move is flattering, a single rose on my doorstep each morning would be more enticing”, House replied, hearing a silent snort of laughter from Darla, while Tritter pulled out his package with nicotine-gum, unwrapping one piece.

“Just bringing your boss up to speed which I guess you didn't feel was necessary.”

“You going to add that to my list of charges?” House mocked.

“People who are innocent tend not to try to hide their arrest”, the cop pointed out, shoving the gum into his mouth while the diagnostician put on a stern expression.

“Is that based on your years of experience arresting innocent people? The way you're going at that gum, it’s obviously not having the desired effect. You're the addict; you're going to be back at the butts in a month. You're just taking out your frustration on me because my meds actually work. Why don't you quit while you're ahead before you end up as a security guard working the night shift at some strip mall?” he growled while Darla walked up to the counter to get a better look.

“I think working around a bunch of nurses has given you a false sense of your ability to intimidate”, Tritter snapped with a side glance towards the nurse who was staring daggers at him while he left.

Cameron and Cramer startled them both when they walked up behind them, with Cameron also staring at the back of the cop.

“Who’s that?”

House sighed, not actually listening to what he answered.

“Apparently Cuddy's widened her sperm donor search to include Neanderthals.”

“Dr. Cuddy is looking for a sperm donor?” Cramer asked, making him look up finally.

“It’s a joke. Like Cuddy would ever want a kid. Or a kid would ever want Cuddy. Hello, that's why it’s funny! Why are you guys here?”

“It’s not Pickwicks. Intubation and steroids have had no effect. Except maybe to cause whatever it is to get worse; he's got a fever now”, Cramer told him. Turning to Cameron he asked about the results of her trip to the patients apartment, asking himself why he still didn’t order Chase to do recons.

“We should do an LP for neurosyphilis”, his female duckling replied, not actually having to tell him that the guy maybe was one of the best clients the lokal rent-a-hooker had.

He shook his head.

“It’s not syphilis.”

“How do you know?”

Sighing House started to walk towards the cafeteria, tired of all the questions they asked. Hadn’t he taught them to think alone? The two ducklings followed him.

“Because you get STDs from people you trust. People you don't feel you need to protect yourself from. Whatever he has is connected to his gut, not what’s below it. MRI his brain; look for clots.”

They told him about the weight limits on both MRI and CT, making him growl to just start treatment.

“We give him blood thinners and the coma's caused by a bleed instead of a clot we'd kill him.”

“Either start treatment or start building a stronger MRI. Whatever you do, do it fast. The longer he stays in the coma, the less likely it is he'll ever wake up.”

With that he opened the door, spotting Hannah paying for their food, hoping that she had scared the sandwich woman enough to not put pickles on his Reuben.

 

***

 

”What did he want this time?” Hannah asked, sitting down next to him.

“Who?” House managed to get out between two bites of his sandwich.

“I assume this guy was the cop who arrested you. What did he want?” she insisted, her meal untouched.

“Told Cuddy about yesterday… and here she comes”, he answered, looking up at the dean if medicine approaching their table. She had that soft look again, making both Houses wanna run by now.

“Here”, she said, holding out a piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

“I made some calls for you. The guy's the best criminal attorney in Princeton.”

“Thanks, but I don't need it. I assume you told Inspector Clouseau that I have a valid prescription for the vicodin?” House asked, feeling his wife’s hand on his thigh while she was looking at the name, frowning at it.

“Yeah, and I assume you did as well. Did it make a difference? The guy's pissed, and with the DEA now treating pain doctors like Columbian…”

“I’m not a pain doctor, I’m a pain patient”, House growled, grabbing the paper.

“Tell it to your lawyer.”

“She’s related to me by now, she knows it already”, the diagnostician grumped, handing her the paper back.

Hannah sighed.

“My mother owns a lawfirm… she’ll handle it.”

Cuddy just looked at them while House took another bite and Hannah stared at her food before turning around and walking back into her office.

When she was finally gone House looked at the woman next to him, just picking at her food.

“Are you okay, Han?”

She sighed.

“I didn’t get much sleep yesterday… I’m just tired.”

By now he actually fought the urge to rub his hand up and down her back or draw her towards his body.

“Hey, everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Greg, he’s out on you, and I don’t think he will stop before he found something.”

“He won’t find anything. I have a prescription for every pill I ever popped.”

Sighing she finally put her fork on the table, leaning back in her seat. Watching her carefully House took another bite.

“You could go home… or take a nap…”

“No teddybear…” was her reply, slightly leaning onto him.

“I think I should leave you alone one night more often… then you appreciate what you have more”, he grinned, making her grin in return.

 

***

 

There were more surprises for him that afternoon, beginning with his ducklings shredding the MRI-table – and the whole thing being Cameron’s idea.

Cuddy harping at him of course was no surprise, Cameron telling her off on the other hand… Chase had a problem with fat people, Cameron was in overprotective mode and Cramer… well, Cramer just did his work while trying to figure out what was up with the other two.

And then Wilson was comparing him of all people to his patient.

Sure, he had an idea after that, but so far it didn’t turn out well.

“Enjoying your Salisbury steak?” he snarked, stalking into the patient’s room, getting an annoyed look as answer while the man was eating his food.

“Putting chopped parsley on a hamburger does not make a Salisbury steak. You must be doctor House.”

“And you must be full of baloney. A lot of it.”

The man rolled his eyes while laughing.

“Right, fat joke, always fun. Only people you can still make fun of.”

House smirked.

“And Christians. Oh and black people. No one in their right mind comes out of a coma and immediately asks to go home with an unknown condition which means that either you're not in your right mind or it’s not an unknown condition. So what is it? You tried to off yourself?”

“You figure, I'm fat, therefore I hate myself.”

“That's a huge leap of logic”, House agreed, seeing the patient roll his eyes again.

“I don't wanna die; I just don't wanna be here.”

“Then it's a condition you've already had diagnosed or its something you know you've inherited. Let's see your stomach has the deep-seated feelings of abandonment written all over it which points towards sexual abuse. Well a fear of hospitals; that points to a more specific traumatic event so I'm going to say…”, scrutinizing the patient he took a deep breath before continuing, “your mom, in the hospital with a candlestick. And by candlestick of course, I mean inherited OTC deficiency.”

“My parents are both alive and well and living in Boca Raton.”

“Thyrotoxic periodic paralysis?” was his next question, getting an annoyed face as answer.

“I have no idea what that is.”

The next guess was “Leukoencephalopathy?” which caused the man in the hospital bed to throw his cutlery onto the tray angrily.

“Will you stop? If I knew what was wrong, I would tell you. I'm not an imbecile, and I'm not miserable. I'm just overweight.”

When House opened his mouth for his next disease he was cut off by the ringing of his cellphone.

Answering it the patient frowned at the short “What? When?!”, before  the diagnostician flipped his cellphone closed again before rushing out of the room, a “to be continued” sounding in from the hallway.

 

***

 

Entering his own apartment felt weird, especially when he had to see his stuff spread all over the place and Tritter standing at the hallway to the bathroom, grinning at him.

Leaning on his cane House sent the man a look.

“What are you doing here?”

“Executing a search of the premises”, Tritter said matter of factly, making the diagnostician fight the urge to pull a face at him. From the bedroom another cop appeared, joined by another one from the kitchen, putting some nearly empty Vicodine tubes into an evidence bag, that was already almost filled. House looked at it critically. Did he really have that many…?

Tritter on the other hand held up a search warrant.

“When you, err… when you got bailed out, before we could get a judge to approve this I almost didn't bother. I thought for sure you'd come straight home and throw everything out. Rookie mistake. Never underestimate the stupidity of an addict. There's got to be over 600 vicodin in here which most DA's would say proves intent to traffic. Even if all you'd really intended was simply to be wasted 24/7 while practicing medicine.”

House still looked at the evidence bag. He never tought he was this careless with his pills, letting half empty bottles lay around in the whole apartment. Noticing his guitar on the floor distracted him, though.

“In case you hadn't noticed, those are prescription bottles. Now I'm not an expert on linguistics per se but I think that means they were prescribed”, he told the detective while picking the instrument up, placing it back in its case laying on the couch.

Tritter scoffed.

“All these were legally prescribed to a man who’s in constant pain but never misses a day at work?”

House rolled his eyes, noticing through the open door of the bedroom that they had emptied every drawer on the floor, and his wife’s precious shoes were piled up on a heap.

“Ever occurred to you that's why I don't miss a day?” he asked, making his way towards the bedroom, seeing the new wardrobe open and also empty. Tritter followed him.

“Yeah, yeah, crossed my mind. Among other things like what an unprofessional, unethical, arrogant ass you are. Because if you’re unprofessional in one area it only makes sense. I have to tell you the female clothes were a surprise. Crossdressing to not feel so empty?” the cop asked and House spun around, seeing the people searching his home smirk.

“How dare you…!”

“Or maybe you found a little missy adoring you enough to oversee you just use her. I tell you, man, you better should get rid of her, ‘cause she’s got good blackmail stuff, I think.”

Frowning at the other man House watched him take another evidence bag out of his jacket and his eyes grew wide.

“I think your little hooker wasn’t careful enough”, Tritter continued to mock, jerking when a voice behind him said “How come everybody thinks I’m a hooker?”

Hannah stealthily had appeared at the entrance to the bedroom and now walked around the stunned cop, seeing the other men grin behind them.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, only getting something stuttered as answer while she closed up to the diagnostician, the stone on her wedding band sparkling in the light falling through the window. Tritter finally found his voice again.

“Who the hell are you?”

Hannah just looked at the man, agreeing with House that he couldn’t be very good in his job when he still didn’t know that the man he wanted do destroy was married.

“I’m Mrs. House. And I am going to take care that all of my clothes are put in these drawers and the wardrobe again. Which means that I won’t be doing it but your lakeys”, she growled at the man, making him take a step back.

“Mrs…”, Tritter repeated, looking at a still speechless Gregory House. Hannah followed his gaze.

“Is everything alright, Greg?” she asked, only now realizing what her husband was looking at.

She ripped the evidence bag out of the cop’s hold before he could even blink.

“How DARE you…!” the Saiyajin growled, making the cop take another step back. House next to her cleared his throat.

“That the surprise you’ve been talking about?”

Hannah nodded, closing her fist around the tiny object in the bag, her knuckles turning white.

“What did it say?” House asked silently, ignoring Tritter who was blabbing something about holding back evidence. The two other cops in the background by now had stopped working and rather enjoyed the show. Hannah sighed

“Negative. But for the shortest time…”

Greg House most of the time didn’t know if his reaction was something at least close to what a sane person would do. Sometimes he wondered why people were offendend, sometimes he wondered why they were not, even though he had intended to say something inappropriate.

Though righ now he didn’t need words. Still ignoring the cop blabbing and the other ones staring at them he made the one step that was separating him from his wife, closing his arms around her.

“We’ll try again”, he told her with the softest smile she had ever seen on his face before his mouth found hers, his lips closing on hers, closing out the world.

“Maybe we’re trying too hard”, Hannah whispered when they separated, resting her forehead against his, noticing that Tritter actually wanted to take the evidence bag out of her hand but couldn’t even make her losen her grip.

House just nodded while his wife faced the other man.

“I don’t think my pregnancy test has anything to do with your investigation!” she snapped and Tritter let go off the bag, looking at her with a mean grin.

“It will have when I lock him up for ten years and you have to raise your child alone!” he growled, leaving two frowning police officers and a wideeyed Greg House.

“Asshole”, one of the other men hissed, putting the evidence bag with the pills in a box before picking up some books from the floor.

House looked at Hannah.

“What if…”

She silenced him with a kiss.

“Nothing will happen.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked, frowning at the cop who made his way into the bedroom, smiling at him.

“If you got those prescriptions, it’s maybe going to court, but since you can prove you don’t own them illegaly… by the way, you should’t let them strut in the whole apartment with a baby… as soon as they can crawl they find anything.”

House sighed, forgetting to make a surprised expression when the police officer started to pick up their clothes from the floor.

“I know. I just should cut it off.”

“You always told me the other painkillers were not helping. And you already cut them back”, Hannah stated.

“I’m not talking about the pills. I’m talking about the leg.”

The policeofficer stopped with what he was doing, watching the couple.

“No.”

“Hannah…”

“No. You fought to keep it… and now you want the coward’s solution? That is not you.”

She cut him off when he opened his mouth to object.

“I know that the baby will change everything. But there are other methods, and we have time. We make it through this stuff right now and then we’ll see what we do. If you still want to cut it off, then I’ll find you a surgeon. Or we find something else. But right now I don’t want to hear anything about that.”

House sighed, leaning his forehead against hers again.

“What do you want then?” he smiled after a while, brushing his lips over hers again.

“I want them to leave…”, she smiled back and both police officers grinned, getting the meaning of her last sentence.

“You’ll have to tidy up on your own then. Happy trying!” the man in the bedroom stated while walking past them, closing up to his colleague who was carrying the evidence box.

 

***

 

“Those two are a nice couple”, policeman Ben Palmer stated while putting the box on the backseat and then taking place on the passenger seat.

His colleague Jack Malloy nodded while he started his car.

“Yup. I wonder what Tritter is up to. In there he was the bastard, and not the doc.”

“Jeez… since his wife ran away with her chiropractor he surely is on the warpath.”

“Sad thing is that he oversees so much. You remember the Leeman case?

Ben Palmer nodded. Tritter thought the murder was just an accident, never asking anybody if the victim would eat fugu fish voluntarily… until a rookie found out, humiliating Tritter to the bone.

Jack Malloy focused his gaze onto the street, silently musing.

Tritter also hadn’t seen the metall box in the study, on top of the shelves. And he sure as hell wouldn’t point out to the detective that Gregory House had morphine in his house, most certainly illegally.

That man gave Carly a new heart.

Least he could das was ‘oversee’ a metal box on top of a shelf.

 

***

 

They hadn’t moved since the policeofficers had left, perfectly comfortable with holding each other.

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this…”, Hannah mumbled, grabbing at his shirt under the coat he was wearing when he closed his arms around her even more.

“I don’t care how I found out… come to think… that is one hell of a story to tell a kid when it’s old enough to know what jerk means.”

“Well… since there is no child…”

“Yet”, House completed her sentence, placing a kiss on her forehead.

Tears were forming in her eyes, making him frown. He had seen her cry once. That was when she though he would leave her. She tried to smile with watery eyes.

“Somehow I feel stupid right now”, she admitted. She was a doctor, for heaven’s sake. She knew that it wasn’t as easy to get pregnant – that only seemed to happen to people who shouldn’t have children.

“No need to. You know as well as me that it’s not that easy.”

“Still I’m a little disappointed. It’s not like we were lazy the last few weeks. And the outcome is like zero…

 “Yeah… I already talked to Cramer about my wish to breed a superior race… we should get going”, he grinned, hearing her snort amused.

“I know, without you the world will go stupid”, she smiled, while making him shrug out of his coat, frowning at his stern expression.

“You can see that on Tritter”, he growled. Thinking of it he did care how he would find out, even though it definitely would be a great story to tell. Hannah’s lips met his.

“Forget about the Neanderthal. Imagine me telling you while wearing the garter-belt”, she purred, making him growl in a lower tone. He was being pushed back towards the bed, both of them losing the top layers of their clothing within the few steps while being locked at their lips.

House stopped her when her hand disappeared into his boxers, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Greg?”

“I… when I was 8 I wanted a dog. My father kept telling me until I was 16 that I just wasn’t responsible enough to take care of anything alive… By then I didn’t want a dog anymore…”

Hannah ran her hand through his hair while he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, her other hand still hovering over the waistband of his boxers.

“Your father is an idiot”, she then stated matter of factly and he looked at her surprised.

“You take good care of me. You take care of the kiddies in your department. You take care of Wilson, making sure he gets out of his office sometimes – by the way, I think there’s something going on between him and Cuddy. You will be a better father than your father ever could be”, she reassured him before trailing a path of tiny kisses down his chest.

“I wish he would see it that way, too”, he sighed, leaning his head onto a pillow with his hand caressing up and down her back, while she paused her kisses too briefly for him to notice.

She knew abuse when she did see it, and even though he hardly ever spoke about his parents, she knew he loved his mother unconditionally, but only occasionally kept in touch with her because he knew she came in a double pack.

There were few nights he didn’t get up in the middle of the night, claiming he was hungry when she woke, too.

There were few nights when she didn’t wake from the distant sounds of the piano, wondering what was eating him.

In the first days after she had met him she though he was an alcoholic along with the Vicodin addiction, seeing the amouts of scotch he downed. Though he had cut back the alcohol as well as the pills a few weeks into their relationship.

What he did had to be perfect.

Not everybody did sense that, since it was his sometimes weird definition of perfection.

There was no room for mistakes, what left her wondering if that was his father’s doing.

Suddenly abandoning his left nipple she scurried up embracing him and running her lips softly over his.

“Should I get you a dog?” she then asked, making him laugh. Closing his arms around her he pulled her on top of him, kissing her hard before looking at her with his ocean blue eyes. She looked at him for a while.

“I don’t think we’ll have time for a dog with the kid we’re still about to produce. And Steve and Angelina would get jealous”, he stated when she still was only looking at him without saying a word. They had gotten the rat a girlfriend and the two had been busy mating ever since then, producing offspring already once, but since this Angelina was unexperienced in raising them she ate her kids.

“They are busy with each other. Something else I could do for you?” Hannah asked, shivering under his hands when they reached for the waistband of her panties.

“I remember my wife musing she had to tell me more often she loved me …”, he answered silently before turning them over so he was laying on top of her, softly kissing her.

“I love you” she whispered, receiving another kiss.

“So, you think we should practice a little more?” he asked with a smile on his face, making her laugh.

“Oh yeah…”, she answered while it was him this time trailing a path of kisses down her body while pulling her panties down. He briefly stopped at her stomach, kissing her below her navel.

Most people would see him as the kind of person who thought bringing children into this world was cruel, and to some point that was right, considering how many of them were dying because of diseases, were hurt by their parents, lived in war or hunger.

He needed to prove that his father was not right.

That he was not irresponsible…

That there was more meaning to life than obeying orders…

That it was not nature that made him like he was.

Burying his head on his wife’s belly he sighed.

“Are you okay, Greg?”

He just nodded, locking his blue eyes with her black ones, looking at him concerned. Her expression softened when she caught his gaze.

“What did I tell you about hyperactive brain action in bed?”

That caused him to grin a boyish smile, kissing her right below her navel before drawing a wet line with his tongue down to that narrow band of hair between her thighs, kissing the soft skin on the inside of her legs.

“Bed’s the place for some other action…”, he then answered, his kisses wandering up her thigh, freeing a moan when he actually kissed her where she wanted it the most. Sucking her clit between his lips he heard her hiss when his hands reached up for her breasts, feeling her chest rise and fall under her breath.


	16. What's normal?

After diagnosing the fat guy with lung cancer House had thought life would get back to normal.

Then he had to find out that his wife was a chilblain when it came to the winterweather in Jersey, wrapping herself in as many layers of clothing as possible when she just got the hint of a snowflake outside.

The good thing about that was that she had quit running in the morning and crawled back into bed with him.

Which was actually a very good thing, so life maybe wasn’t normal – but when exactly had it been that for him – but at least it wasn’t bad.

He was wrong, noticing that Tritter had taken interest in Wilson rather than tormenting him.

What freezing the oncologist’s bank account would help he didn’t know, but listening to the conversation between Cuddy and his friend told House that the cop wouldn’t let go off him easily.

Why would holding Wilson’s car as a hostage and taking away his DEA prescription privileges help anything in the case? It was not like the oncologist was the only one prescribing him his medicine. There was also Cuddy, and now and then Chase. Even Foreman had…

Not wanting to think about his colored ex-duckling he turned around to the actual ones, sitting in front of him and dropped a test result on the table which Chase picked up.

“Hep A?”

He didn’t even have time for a snarky comment when Wilson stormed into his conference room, annoucing that he would be using his team for his prescriptions.

Before he could say a word to that, the oncologist was gone and House stared at the door for some seconds before dropping the envelope with his game on the table, leaving the ducklings to find out that he knew them all too well.

Limping into his office he sat down at his new desk, telling himself that Tritter had no chance, that everything would just go back to normal once the cop realized that he couldn’t make Wilson rat him out for the sake of getting back his car.

Sighing he started to check his e-mails, hoping that Cameron would never find out that actually he answered some of them without her knowing it.

Since he married into such a big family every now and then one of his brothers and sisters in law would drop him a hello, or one of his nieces or nephews who were told to ‘ask uncle Greg’ about anything that was concerning biology sent him a mail starting with “Hello, uncle Greg”, which made him smile eventually.

Surprisingly enough all of them seemed to like him.

The one he opened right now made him smile really wide and grab his cane, limping towards the elevator while his three ducklings still stared at the envelope in disbelief.

 

***

 

“There you are! I looked for you in the whole institute!” House exclaimed, seing Hannah roll her eyes at his exaggeration while she left one of the break rooms for the staff.

“Your kids cured your patient already?” she asked, falling into a slow gait next to him while following him to her office with a frown on her face.

Sure, he visited her every now and then, but he knew she had this thing for the freshmen today, so…

“Nope, did a long line of useless tests. I diagnosed him. And I thought I would find you all watery here again.

At that she stopped, the frown never leaving her face.

“Greg, I just sacrificed two mice to show some ‘I’ll only work with tissue culture’ barbie dolls some E13.5 embryos and really had to fight down the urge to laugh when one of them fainted and another one threw up in the trash can. If that’s the future of Genetics, then good night.”

“So, you are in a cruel mood today? Then maybe I should wait with showing you…  oops, nearly blabbed it out”, he grinned, knowing that it would make her curious, even though she walked into her office saying nothing, but rather glaring at him.

He threw his free hand in the air in a theatrical gesture.

“Okay, if you are begging me that nice…”

Limping over to her desk he opened her account, finding the message and opening it to leave her staring at the picture of the baby boy with the raven black hair and the grey blue eyes in the arms of a rather exhausted looking Harmon Rabb jr. and a smiling Cara, the text of the mail annoucing the arrival of Harmon Rabb III..

Hannah just tilted her head to one side, scrutinizing the little boy.

“Don’t you dare to say he’s ugly. For being born in an elevator with his own Daddy as midwife he looks pretty good”, House declared when she still had not said a word. And if the boy came after his Dad he’d have to scare away the girls before he even knew what chick magnet meant.

Hannah started to laugh.

“Oh… this is so Cara… everything important happening to her is happening when she’s stuck in an elevator!”

Now it was House’s turn to frown.

“You serious?”

“How do you think Harm the third was conceived?”

“Ew! I don’t want to think about Navy-guy and your sister that way… okay, maybe your sister, but not the squid!” the diagnostician exclaimed, making her laugh even more.

“And don’t let Navy-guy know I said that because I think he could beat me up maybe”, House continued, watching her sit down while she continued laughing.

“Not only maybe… He’s a fighter pilot, ‘s got SEAL and Recon training and worked for the CIA”, Hannah informed him, taking another close look at the picture.

House frowned at that information, suddenly being glad that the Force Judge Advocate seemed to like him and didn’t take his jokes too serious.

“I can’t believe she really named the little creep Harmon”, Hannah said in the meantime, leaning her head on her hands.

“Why not? Daddy’s got a junior in his name.”

“Yep. And he doesn’t like his name.”

Leaning back in her chair the neurologist crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Our’s are going to be way sweeter”, she then declared, her black eyes locking on his oceanblue gaze. His hand somehow found its way into her hair, messing it up while he bowed down to graze her lips.

“Of course they will.”

He winced slightly when she took hold on his right arm to ease herself up, but forgot about the unusual pain when she once more kissed him.

“You got a little time to play, Daddy?”

He sent her a dirty grin while sneaking his arms around her.

When he had the first button of her blouse open (after he had pulled off the pullover she was wearing over it) his beeper went off.

Her hands didn’t stop sneaking inside his jeans, moaning against his mouth when he grabbed the annoying thing to glance at it.

“Just ignore it…”

“My patient just…”

She claimed his lips once more, making him groan.

“Just ignore it.”

“You know I can’t”, he answered, disentagling himself, ignoring her narrowed eyes.

“I think it’s time for the guerrilla tactics”, Hannah mumbled, turning to pick up her pullover and slipping it over her head.

House sighed.

“You also know this thing beeps always when we definitely don’t need it.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it. Now go, save a life.”

She knew she was sounding grumpy.

He didn’t know how to react and nodded.

“See you at home?”

He got a “Hm”, and a wave of her hand before he turned around, shaking his head slightly.

He’d rather take care of his horny wife right now than everything else his patiend could probably have.

And that was not normal.

Since when did he leave a puzzle for something he knew what was going on?

 

***

 

James Wilson was slamming down the receiver of his phone.

His divorces had taught him to despise advocates, at least the ones trying to get as much money as possible out of a failed marriage.

Though this situation left him furious enough to actually yell at the guy.

He still was breathing heavily, thinking about what had happened to him in the last few days. When he fetched House from his night in a prison cell he hadn’t thought about it very much. He knew his friend had insulted the detective.

That this man now was using his power as a cop to destroy House on the other hand was new.

House always got away one way or the other, most of the time because of his cane and people acknowledging that he WAS in constant pain – and they would be grumpy, too, experiencing something like that.

And just now the diagnostician had to meet the cop from hell, wanting to show him who was the bigger jerk.

And who was not suffering under it?

Growling at the phone and his office in general Wilson placed another file on the desk. Another person who would get her meds from one of House’s ducklings, because he was being treated like Julio Escobar, the cop obviously not believing him when he told him that the rather big amount on his bank account was won in Vegas, half of it had gone to Inland Revenue.

A knock on his door made him look up, revealing Cuddy standing in the frame of the door, throwing him a sympathetic look.

“I heard you needed someone for your prescriptions”, she told him softly, freeing another sigh of his chest when she closed the door behind her and walked next to him, her hand caressing softly through his hair.

“I told House I would use his team”, the oncologist said, leaning into her caress. She stopped by running her hand down his cheek before grabbing a pen of his desk.

“His patient just collapsed. They don’t have time.”

 

***

 

Hannah shrieked with surprise when he plopped down on her couch, throwing his left arm over his eyes while the right one stuck in a sling. When her gaze met the cane with the four prongs she pulled a face.

“Greg…?”

“The ducks won’t write me prescriptions, my shoulder is obviously a human being, hurting because Wilson has problems because of me… and the evil nurse from hell makes me use this thing. Stole my cane.”

“I could…”

“Then I went to Cuddy… by the way, I offered to father her child if she would give me a prescription, which maybe should make me really think about  my addiction… and maybe I also should hide because my wife might want to hit me…”

That made her frown.

“Ah… Greg, I am your wife…”

He just continued.

“Then Wilson wanted to borrow Cameron for his prescriptions while I had an idea, I snapped at him, and now he’s closing his practice, I infected the patient with four different germs to find out what’s killing him… and Wilson isn’t talking to me…”

“I already found out that I am your Wilson substitute”, an amused voice told him and he lifted his arm enough to get a peek at the woman behind the desk, who was actually smiling.

“The ‘I offered to father her child’ gave you away”, she told him before standing up from her chair, walking towards the couch.

“What’s with the shoulder?”

“I don’t know. Normally it’s the leg telling me I’ve done something bad… but I didn’t do anything this time.”

“Maybe you feel guilty because Tritter is out on Wilson now”, Hannah said, crawling onto the couch next to him and he closed his arms around her. Well… he used his free arm.

“At least you are not mad at me anymore”, he sighed, burying his nose in her hair.

“I wasn’t mad… I just was… crazy?” she offered, making him snicker.

“I’ll talk to my mother, if she can do anything against the cop… we could send him my father, he’ll never know what hit him.”

He chuckled once more, hugging her against him.

“Maybe we should try first to stop him legally.”

“Maybe. You got your pills?”

“Yeah.”

Shifting in his arms she turned to watch him, a frown on her face.

“So… Cuddy really wants your sperm?”

 

***

 

“Do you want to hear something funny?” Lisa Cuddy asked when she walked into Wilson’s office.

The oncologist sat behind his desk, a pile of envelopes on it.

“I’m not in the mood for anything right now.”

“Not even Greg House offering to be the father of my child for a bottle of Vicodin?”

“He did not say that.”

“He did.”

Resting his ellbows on the table Wilson watched the dean of PPTH.

“You gave him the pills?”

“If I didn’t it would have been the evidence for Tritter that he doesn’t need them. Though we could use this against him to finally get some treatment against his addiction.”

“Knowing House it really will backfire. And we won’t hear the end of it when he finds out that he is three months late with his offer”, the oncologist smiled as Cuddy walked around the desk to sit down on his lap, his hand wandering to her flat stomach.

“Well… at least he can’t say we should call the child Vegas.”

Leaning into his caresses Cuddy smiled against his shoulder.

“That really is a great opportunity to cut him down a bit. To down the dose, maybe I can also make him take another medication…”

Wilson sighed.

“I am angry with him right now, can we talk about something else, please?”

Cuddy pretended to think about it, but then decided to go on with her topic.

“You know that this time he actually hasn’t done anything.”

“He pissed off the wrong person. And somehow the cop can’t take it out on him, so his wrath is hitting me. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he has done something. Last thing I need now is a cop on my heels”, the oncologist said, closing his arms around the dean of PPTH. It was almost scary how fast he had forgotten his vows to never ever love again… It was scary how fast he had fallen for Cuddy after they had decided to spend time together…

“That is more important than House. And he and Hannah are strong enough to live some days without me being his voice of reason. Actually I’m sick of it!”

Cuddy just smiled.

“I like protective me, really… but if that costs us House…”

“If it would make him realize that he has a problem and finally would do something against it…”

“You know he will ignore anything we say.”

The oncologist sighed again.

Of course he knew.

“He has to realize that… it can’t go on like this. One day he will wake up and find his liver shutting down. And Hannah’s doing nothing against his addiction.”

Now Cuddy sighed.

“So we are there to rescue him?”

Wilson rolled his eyes.

“When aren’t we?”


	17. Beautiful world

When she woke she found two azure blue eyes looking at her while long fingers where caressing loose strands of her auburn hair out of her face.

“Good morning”, House whispered, kissing her softly on the tip of her nose.

Hannah blinked tiredly.

“What time is it?”

“Half past nine.”

Shifting slightly in his embrace his wife turned to look out the window and shivered.

“It’s snowing again”, she declared with a voice that made clear that she was not a fan of the big, fluffy snow flakes covering New Jersey. House just smiled.

“Who would have thought that the big, tough warrior could be such a wuss when it comes to snow?”

“First of all: I am not a wuss. And second: It is cold, it is wet, and I can’t wear any pretty shoes.”

“Wait, you make such a fuss because you can’t wear your high heels? There’s also pretty winter shoes, you know?” the diagnostician asked with a smirk.

“In the really pretty ones you still get wet feet”, Hannah complained, actually pouting as if he could do anything against it.

While House just laughed at her comment she turned him onto his back, laying on top of him and resting her head on her hands that she crossed on his chest.

“You know what’s good about winter?” she then asked.

“What definitely isn’t good is you wrapping up in five layers of clothes. I always need an hour to unwrap you”, now the diagnostician complained, his hands wandering from her back to her ass, his fingernails slightly grazing over the smooth skin.

“Consider that training for christmas… no, what I meant is this: Cuddling with you in the warm bed… without having to think about getting up…”

By now she was resting her head directly on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“You watching me when I wake up”, she continued silently before lifting her head and looking at him directly.

House watched her as she resumed her former position, listening to his heart while he continued drawing patterns on her back.

He couldn’t think of any position he’d rather wake up to.

“Coming back to the christmas comment: Are you planning on wrapping yourself in six layers and then take the time?” he grinned, making her lift her head again and grin back.

“Damn, you figured out your present.”

“I’ll tell you what is your’s then: It’s made of skin and will have a big, red bow tied around it.”

Winking at her he got a pair of rolled eyes before she scooted up a bit and he closed his arms around her.

“I never thought I would have something like this”, he suddenly admitted, kissing her before she could comment it.

“You never thought you’d bed  an alien? How come?”, she asked with a grin, making him shake his head before losening his embrace and rather catching her face in his hands.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well I definitely didn’t think I would find someone like you when I started my job here”, she replied.

“Snarky, old guy with a limp?”

Mirroring his gesture she caught his head, her thumbs running over the stubble on his cheeks.

“Yep, exactly… I won’t allow anyone to take this away from me…”

“Now who is sounding wussy?” House joked before kissing her. Breaking the kiss Hannah tilted her head to one side, grinning at him.

“Me. And I’m allowed to.”

“Why?” he asked, being surprised when she rolled off him, dragging him along until he was on top.

“You really want me to explain it? Because I don’t think I can…” she asked back, parting her legs for him while he closed his arms around her.

Shaking his head he looked at her sincerely.

“Nope. You can be unpredictable on your own.”

Running her hands down his back she watched him for some seconds before putting on a mean grin.

“Being unpredictable would mean I go into the bathroom and take a shower… leaving you alone out here…”

“I said unpredictable, not plain mean”, was his retort, before once again letting his lips briefly touch hers, one of his hands aiming for one of her breasts while she was grabbing his ass, making him moan loudly.

“Then consider yourself lucky that your wife is horny right now…”, Hannah answered, moving her hips against his semi – hard on, running her fingernails up his back again.

“So… we’re skipping breakfast? Again?”

He didn’t like the concerned sound of his words, yet he couldn’t help it. He’d never experienced something like that before, caring for someone like this…

He had been surprised by feeling protective towards Hannah, not only back then, when she’d been shot… he was surprised he actually could have feelings like that, only to find out he had always had them, just never realized he was acting after them.

He thought that losing her would be the most terrible thing that ever could happen to him.

But now… they were trying to start a family. It was not him and her anymore – there was something bigger and sometimes it really scared him what was awaiting him, making him ask himself if he really wanted what they were about to do…

“We’re not skipping breakfast… We’re resceduling…”, Hannah told him while sneaking one of her hands down between his legs, running her forefinger over his growing length.

“Han…”

“No, really, I’m not hungry right now… well, at least not for food…”

Capturing her head in both of his hands he made her look at him, just as she started to caress the tip of his penis, making it really hard to put words into a sequence that made any sense.

“I… never thought I could love someone so much… Thanks for breaking that guy’s thumb back then…”

A laughter escaped her when she saw him smile at her, shaking her head slightly.

“Shouldn’t you thank me for driving you home and getting into this shower with you…?”

“Happened all after the genius of the year… Maybe I should track him down and send him a fruit basket.”

“I think a hundred bucks would make him more happy… And I love you, too, in case you wondered…”

The look in his eyes told her that he needed to hear that every now and then, longing for love just like everyone else did – what made him think that he wasn’t capable or worth of it she didn’t know but had a pretty good guess, the pieces of the puzzle that was his life slowly but steadily building a picture she sometimes didn’t like, making her angry at people she didn’t even know, sometimes being glad she wasn’t anywhere near them.

When he didn’t say anything she just ran her tongue over his lower lip, resuming to stroke him, freeing another groan as he moved against her hand.

Kissing the tip of her nose he looked at her with a smug grin.

“So… what are you hungry for then?”

She had to laugh once more before he devoured her mouth, entering her with one swift motion that caused her to arch her body against him.

“Snarky, old guy with a limp”, she mocked, feeling him shake in her arms when he had to laugh, too.

“Well… then you’re right here…”, he told her, pulling out almost all the way before forcefully thrusting into her again.

He got no sarcastic remark, so he just watched her face for some seconds, eyes closed, lips slightly apart, a little sound escaping her throat, urging him into a steady pace while closing his arms around her, holding her against him as if his life depended on it.

Her fingers soon were clawing into his scalp, dragging his head up to meet her lips again, tongues feverishly dancing around one another as she met each of his thrusts.

He nearly lost it when one of her hands disappeared between their bodies, stroking herself just as he could feel his climax building inside him, though he still was battling against it with gritted teeth, one of his hands pinching a painfully erect nipple causing her to gasp.

“Greg…!”

Lifting her legs and closing them behind his back changed the angle he was pushing into her, his lips desperately searching for hers again when she arched against him.

“Don’t come yet…”, he panted, her hand stopping her movements, only to be replaced by one of his long pianist’s fingers, the pad easily finding this sensitive nub of nerves, rubbing it only a few times before her inner muscles closed around his throbbing shaft in a deadly grip, making him throw his head back as she went stiff in his arms, his release causing him to grunt loudly as her muscles rhythmically contracted around him.

He collapsed on top of her just as she went slack, closing his arms around her again, knowing she wouldn’t mind if he stayed on top for a while, his head buried in the crook of her neck, now and then placing a lazy kiss there.

After a while he was pushed on his back, with her rolling on top of him, mirroring the position from before when everything had started.

Black eyes looked at him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Placing a kiss on his lips she tilted her head to one side as she resumed watching him.

“Will you feed me now?” she asked suddenly, making him close his eyes and laugh loudly.

“Grab some of those ugly shoes, wife, we’re going out…”

 

***

 

“Why can’t we take a cab?”

Hannah kicked at the snow under her feet, her right hand tightly clutching his left one in the pocket of his coat, while she had stuffed her other hand in her own pocket, her woolly hat reaching down to her eyebrows, her shawl almost going up to the tip of her nose.

“We can take a cab.”

House did everything he could not to grin when he saw her almost pout next to him while his cane left little holes in the freshly fallen snow unter their feet, the soles of his shoes making squeeky noises as they walked on.

“Then why don’t we?”

He could slip. He could fall. He could…

His voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Because we’re walking”, House stated matter of factly, leading her away from the diner where they just had had a late breakfast or an early lunch. With an amused expression on his face he turned to her.

“Did they forget you outside once, or why are you such a chilblain?”

“You should see my Dad… Warrior my ass when temperature’s dropping below freezing. I don’t know why they’re still living in Connecticut… Except for Mom and Cara you couldn’t get us away from the fireplace in winter”, Hannah answered, wrapping both of her arms around his left one while resting her head on his shoulder.

His thoughts wandering to his sister in law with the emerald green eyes he once more wondered what could be so special about her that Hannah felt the need to point out she was different.

“So your sis didn’t inherit the chilblain-gene?”

Hannah shook her head.

“She has control over her blood circulation and body heat. She simply doesn’t get cold.”

His eyes rested on her for some seconds, contemplating what she just had said, after more than four months of knowing _what_ she was still having problems with actually believing it.

“Sounds cool”, he then said, remembering his nights spent outside in the backyard, walking up and down the place to keep warm until he was too exhausted to keep going.

Both of them watched a mother drag her son home, the boy dragging a sleigh behind him while begging his mother to let him get back into the park, telling her he wasn’t hungry, growling at her that all of his friends would be laughing at him because he was the only one who was fetched by his mother.

The woman didn’t even look at him

“You can go back right _after_ you ate something, being the only one without a growling stomach”, the mother answered, being unaware of the blue gaze watching her. She had a firm grip on her boy’s arm but didn’t hurt him. She watched him kick his shoes against the stairs in front of their home in order to get the exess snow off, laughing with him as a small avalanche from the roof met the ground just a second after he had started kicking.

“Please, leave the house intact, you little Hercules…!”

“Mommy, that wasn’t me”, he told her, shaking his head at the fact that his mother believed he could really shatter the house with one kick.

She just smiled before following him up the stairs, closing the door behind them.

Continuing their walk House hoped his children would not come after their mother concerning snow.

 

They were entering the park when he finally felt her losen her grip on his arm, feeling flint under his feet making it less likely for him to slip. She just interlaced her fingers with his, shoving both of their hands back into the pocket of his coat.

They soon heard the other kids, sliding down a hill, yelling, laughing, throwing snowballs at each other.

He could see other parents, gathering there, chatting with each other, one father grabbing up his girl who was protesting loudly about the fact that she had to leave. The man threw her over his shoulder with a grin, making her laugh as she was halfway hanging down his back, dragging her sleigh behind them.

Hannah next to him stopped walking, watching the scene while House was already busy studying a developing snowballfight.

After a couple of steps the man put his daughter back down on the ground, taking her little hand in his while she was making him promise to take her back as soon as he’d fed her. Big eyes and glowing cheeks winning the guy over almost immediately were too much for her, blinking furiously away tears threatening to escape. If there just had been these two stripes on the test…

As if feeling her change of mood House briefly squeezed her hand, his eyes still on the kids battling each other.

“You getting watery again?”

“In a few years that will be you and me…”, she answered, once again leaning against his body, consuming the warmth radiating from him while he watched his snowball kids.

“Though I’d appreciate if you’d do the winter-stuff…”, Hannah sighed but he didn’t react.

He’d never be that guy.

For picking up a child like this you needed balance he didn’t have.

For cheering up a fussing child… you needed to be somebody else.

His cane started denting the snow next to his right leg, his left hand letting go of hers to fish for the bottle of Vicodin in the pocket, slowly taking it out and taking one of the pills, swallowing it dry.

When he stuffed it back in he was surprised to find her hand still there, lacing her fingers with his immediately.

“I’ll take care of the carrying stuff… you can drag the sleigh”, she said, oddly enough making him smile while she was wrapping around him, her head on his shoulder once more, both of them watching the children play.

“And stop doubting yourself… I’ve seen you around children. They like you.”

“They don’t have to live with me 24/7.”

“We get along.”

“We fight at work… and sometimes I wonder how I still get into your pants afterwards”, he admitted, feeling her shake against him when she laughed.

“Well… there’s nothing better than sex to relieve the tension…”, Hannah grinned against his shoulder, her hand this time squeezing his.

“Just don’t tell me you put up fights with me, because you want into _my_ pants.”

“Why’d I do that? If I want into your pants all I have to do is say your name.”

He laughed loudly at that.

“Just don’t tell Cameron… or Cramer. They might use it against me.”

Feeling her move even closer towards him he rolled his eyes.

“You’re really freezing up here, aren’t you?”

She sent him a mischievious grin.

“Or it’s another try to get into your pants…”

“For that… we’re taking that cab you wanted before.”

Another mean grin reached him.

“What if I want to walk right now?”

“Aw, woman, stop playing with me!”

 

***

 

She slipped right in front of their entrance door, dragging him down with her as she desperately clawed her fingers that had let go off him only seconds before into his forearm, sending him down to the ground with her.

She fought the urge to laugh, rather taking a look at him if he was hurt.

The man next to her was shaking his head.

“There I let go off you only once and you decide to fall down into this icy stuff!” he exclaimed, errupting with laughter as she was hopping up, dusting herself off while he just sat there, both legs outstretched in the freshly fallen snow. She stopped what she was doing to scrutinize him.

“You look like you’re about to make a snow angel”, she then declared, errupting into laughter as well as she reached out for him, pulling him back to his feet.

They both just had turned around to the entrance door, when it opened in front of them, revealing Michael Tritter, holding a metal box in his hands.


	18. Face the truth

“Your honor, detective Tritter entered the house of my client without a warrant seven days ago. Everything he has found he also could have placed there.”

Zoe McLachlan calmly looked at the woman behind the desk with House next to her, doing all he could to not let his cane hop on the floor. She surely had pulled some strings to get this into court that fast.

It was boring.

And right now he didn’t care if they put him in prison for illegal possession of narcotics or nominated him for America’s sexiest doctor.

He knew he should have gotten rid of the stuff.

He also knew it was his safety net.

Tritter angrily stared at the diagnostician and his lawyer, the district attorney nearly falling over himself when he learned who would be defending House.

“He is having narcotics at his home, he is permanently taking Vicodin while practicing medicine!”

Well, at least there was still a brain in the DA.

House watched his mother in law, somehow feeling like a boy, having done something bad.

Zoe just sighed.

“There was no mentioning of this box after the first search of premises, and as you can see from the file, Mr. Tritter is bringing up charges against him not for the first time.”

The judge just looked down at the file.

A speeding ticket that was worth nothing since he had no evidence.

Driving under the influence of narcotics – with a clean blood test.

The first search brought up a stash of Vicodin. Still with a prescription for every pill. And reading the cause for all of this she couldn’t deny the feeling that the pain veryfied the medication.

“Well, maybe the police officers didn’t see it. It happens”, the DA countered, with the judge looking at Tritter.

“Where did you find the box?”

“In the study, on top of a shelf.”

“Your honor, my client and his wife practically had to put their house back together after the search, also the study. Don’t you think they would have gotten rid of the morphine the minute they found out the police hadn’t found it?

The judge now looked at House, who had placed both of his hands on the handle of his cane, obviously busy staring at something outside the window.

She had heard about the man. She had heard he was a genius, he was… not easy.

He looked like he was bored beyond belief and she had to stop herself from actually smiling.

“He could have also gotten rid of the 600 pills of Vicodin and didn’t. Because he thinks he can get away with it.”

By now Zoe turned from the judge towards the DA, staring him down with carcoal black eyes.

“He doesn’t have to. We are here because of the morphine, and all I know righ now is that detective Tritter broke into the house of my client. And ‘searched it’ without a warrant.”

Which made everything he found there worth nothing for court.

 

***

 

Michael Tritter observed the diagnostician leave the court room next to his lawyer.

Of course they had won.

If they just had arrived at their home five minutes later – then his carreer wouldn’t be ruined and this guy would end up behind iron bars.

He was defeated.

And lucid enough to admit for once that he had gone too far.

This was no movie, where the cop was the good guy, his methods reckless and not always sticking to the book, but he nevertheless got the girl in the end, found out what was the bigger secret behind the small fish he caught in the beginning.

Sure, the box had been there before – but he had been too impatient to wait for another warrant, too sure he would find something that he didn’t think about what would come next.

The oncologist didn’t rat House out – and he was wondering what had to happen so that Dr. Wilson would cheat on his friend.

The fellows were even more stubborn. Giving him no informations whatsoever, the surgeon was just shrugging his shoulders and returning to his crossword as if he didn’t care. The other guy was talking about damaged nerves and pain until his head was spinning from an overload of information.

The woman just looked at him with bluegreen eyes, defensive from her toes to the tips of her hair. From her he was getting even less than from the dean.

Nothing was working as in a movie, where the first witnesses caved when you took away their car.

This was different. Just as the female fellow had put it.

None of them would cave just because they had to borrow money for their lunch.

In fact, he had seen them together with the redhaired witch, paying for all three of them.

She was the biggest miracle in this whole scenario.

Why he had not seen that House was married he still didn’t know – he had just assumed that someone like him wouldn’t find someone.

He couldn’t find anything important about her past.

He couldn’t get a hold on her bank account. Heck, he couldn’t even get one on House’s account, this being the real reason why he had been taking it out on the doctors prescribing him the meds.

His cellphone ringing made him stop his trail of thoughts, knowing that it was his boss, needing to tell him the obvious after he had screwed up.

Maybe a transfer would do him good – to forget about his ex-wife, the mistakes he had made…

To keep him from obsessing about this woman.

Flipping his phone open he craddled it to his ear.

“Hey, Carl…”

 

***

 

He followed her, thinking she was heading back to the car and found himself looking at her surprised when they ended up in front of a restaurant.

“We need to talk”, she said, going inside and he got nervous, cursing himself.

That was definitely not the talk he needed right now, her blaming him for screwing up her daughter’s life, he knew that himself, thank you.

Still he followed her inside, handing his coat over to the waiter, the guy throwing him and his cane a quick look before pulling out her chair.

Glancing around nervously he decided to jump right into it.

“I know what you’re going to say now… but to defend myself: I warned her I would screw up”, House said. Zoe looked at him for a while.

“I’d never say you screwed up. Screw up means there’s no way out. And no, I don’t say she should leave you”, his mother in law exclaimed when his eyes went wide.

“Would maybe be…”

“Stop it right now, Mister. Come on, even Vegeta likes you, and I can’t say that about all of my sons in law”, she informed him, suddenly glad about the little smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth. He somehow made her feel the motherly side in her, the big, grouchy, tough guy sometimes appearing like a little, lost boy.

“You are family, Greg. Get that in that thick skull already.”

The waiter appearing for their orders spared him an answer, an awfull silence surrounding them for the next few minutes.

“Why is this so hard for you? A little problem arises and you run”, Zoe asked him all of a sudden, making his eyes jerk away from the cuttlery.

“I can’t run”, was his answer, his voice sounding hoarse. The woman sighed.

“You are not alone. Why is it so hard for you to accept help?”

“So… you want to _help_ me now”, he sarcastically growled.

A deep black gaze caught him.

“I just helped you with some judical problems. I wasn’t talking about anything else.”

“Sure. And now you’ve got a reason to advise the druggy to get some other help.”

His acerbic tone would have made others change the topic or escape from the room. Someone with her knowledge very well also could mention that she had good blackmail material.

The woman on the other side of the table did neither.

She reached out, placing one hand on top of his.

“I don’t want to change you. And with this mess now gone I hope everything can go back to normal for both of you. Don’t you think I know how happy you are with her and how happy she is with you? I can feel your pain, believe me, and I wouldn’t want to live with it on a day to day basis, which you don’t want to, too, but somehow you manage. You are a strong man, Gregory House, yet most of the time you act like a scared little boy.”

He had listened to her speech, finding it somehow funny that none of the McLachlan women seemed to have a problem with his addiction – or his behaviour.

At the strong man comment he averted his eyes to her hand lying on top of his. Her sleeve had slipped back a bit, showing a long, white scar that did look pretty old.

Using the fingers of his other hand he caught her wrist, getting a better look.

“The head of the orphanage where I grew up threw me through a glass door and cut my arms when I wouldn’t cry”, she told him, pulling the sleeve back down.

House nodded slowly. He knew her story, even though Hannah had left out the abuse stuff.

“Why didn’t you remove them surgically?”

“I was four years old when it happened. When they were healed I was the star in kindergarten because of them… and Vegeta didn’t mind…”

The waiter once more interrupted them, bringing their food.

House had to laugh when he saw her dig into it.

Then he turned to his food, the silence giving him the chance to think once more.

She had lived with her scars since she could think, accepted them.

Why couldn’t he do the same?

“You are different”, a voice said, making him look up.

“You can’t compare our scars.”

The look in his eyes told her she was wrong, that this time it was not about the leg.

The motherly side once again reared its head but she battled it down.

It was Hannah’s job to comfort him.

 

***

 

“How’d it go?”

Hannah turned her head towards the entrance door when she heard him, expecting him to gloat about the fact that Tritter now was the one with a problem. The thoughtful expression on his face made her frown.

“Greg?”

“We won the case… Maybe everything can go back to normal finally, without everyone watching their back. I sure as hell won’t miss the stress”, he answered, plopping down onto the couch, his arms sneaking around her immediately while his head was resting on her stomach.

Her hand automatically started to caress his somewhat rebellious hair.

“Are you alright?”

He was shaking his head against her belly.

“Your mom had figured me out in less than a minute.”

“It’s her job… she didn’t…?”

“No, she didn’t mention rehab or anything. Why don’t any of you want to change me? I’m the exact opposite of perfect.”

Hannah continued to caress his hair.

“Well, maybe in the human definition of perfection”, she said then, actually making him laugh.

After a few minutes she scurried down on the couch, his head now resting on her shoulder with his hand on her still flat stomach.

“Did you want her to mention rehab?” she asked after a while. Opening his eyes he watched her.

“I want the pain to go away. I want to be able to run after my child…” he whispered, burying his face against her.

“We could do some research… when did you stop staying up to date with pain management?”

Once again he looked at her. One more woman who knew him too well. Knowing that he would give up when he saw no hope.

“Four years ago.”

He heard her sigh.

“That’s one giant heap of paper we’ll have to read.”

At least he didn’t mention anymore to cut it off.


	19. Side effects of rage

It hurt.

He couldn’t think when it hurt.

Yet Cuddy didn’t seem to worry about that, and even though he was feeling bad for lashing out at her before, he really didn’t feel like apologizing now. She was feeding him pills like he were a dog, doing his tricks, being rewarded… All of his ducklings had tried to write him a prescription, until she finally told them than anyone giving him his drugs would have to look for a new job. So they caved.

And his diagnosis right now was depressing him, too.

“Necrotizing fasciitis?” Cramer gasped, with Cameron telling them the unneccessary: that it was impervious to drugs.

As if he didn’t know that. As if he liked the thought of amputating the girl’s leg and arm.

“It spreads, she dies.”

“You are talking about crippling her!” Cramer tried again, with Chase exclaiming “We're not even certain this was an infection!”

He growled at them, his secret stash pill still in the pocket of his shirt.

“Right! She’s sick! She’s cute! She can’t have flesh-eating bacteria! It’s just wrong, so let’s cure her with sunshine and puppies! Cute kids die of terrible illnesses! People are in pain, just because cowards like you…”

The punch blew him off his feet before he realized that somebody had stormed into his conference room.

It didn’t even hurt… much.

It was the contorted face staring down at him, lying on his floor, at the foot of one of his bookcases that shocked him.

“How dare you!!!” Wilson growled, taking a step towards him. It made him want to scurry into a corner.

“Wha…”

“How dare you telling Lisa she sucks at being a mother??!!” the outraged oncologist continued, making another step, fisting his right hand again.

All of them expected a sarcastic answer, the two other men in the room getting ready for breaking up a fight.

What they got was House lifting his arms, protecting his head while whispering “I’ll never do it again, I promise…”

Wilson narrowed his eyes on him, unclenching his hand.

“You just always know where to poke. But this time you are wrong: She will be a wonderful mother! Though maybe you and Hannah should rethink you wish to procreate. ‘Cause you definitely will be a horrible father!”

With that he left the room, the ducklings watching the door, and then their boss who was still on the floor, staring wide eyed at the entrance, slightly jerking when Cameron got to her knees next to him.

“Are you okay?”

He slowly turned his head towards her, one hand reaching up to rub his chin, where Wilson just had hit him. Reaching out for his cane he let her help him to get up.

“I’ll tell the parents”, he then said, staggering out of the conference room, leaving three very confused ducklings.

“You know… I’ve been waiting for something like this. Though I thought it would be Cuddy punching him first”, Chase finally said, plopping down on a chair, reaching for House’s newest toy: A laser pointer that had been pulled out of some… orifice.

 

***

 

Something bad had happened.

That she could tell even without his slow gait or him falling down on her couch.

She let him sit there for a while, his head craddled in his hands, obviously deep in though.

“I just punched Chase.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes. Chase was the office-puppy. You could be mad at him, but nobody…

House lifted his head and looked at her.

That’s when she saw it.

“He punched you back?” she asked, seeing the angry red spot on his lower jaw.

House shook his head.

“That was Wilson.”

“Wilson hit you, because you hit Chase?”

Hiding his head once more in his hands House sighed.

“No… Wilson beat me because I told Cuddy she’d be a horrible mother. I hurt Chase because… because he was there, in my way, pushing me back… and I just couldn’t stand being pu…”

He jerked when her arms closed around him. Sometimes she was moving too stealthily.

“I nearly maimed a little girl… All I could think of was the next pill… am I really that pathetic? I’ve made it through the day with three to four for the last couple of months!”

“I’ll talk to Cuddy. It can’t go on like this. She knows you need them.” Drawing him closer she could feel his resistance subside, letting her embrace him, hugging her back.

“She’s set her mind on getting me away from the pills.”

“That is not her decision.”

Resting his head on her shoulder House sighed.

“Why would Wilson…? I’ve said meaner things to her…”

“I don’t know… What happened to the girl?”

“Chase got it right… I’ll have to apologize to him.”

Hannah caught his head in her hands, her right thumb stroking over his stubble.

“You can do that tomorrow. Give both of you time to calm down…”

She knew he would not sleep well this night.

 

***

 

He did sleep.

Not very well, but at least he got some rest, finally having swallowed his secret-secret-secret stash pill, secure in her embrace, her arms that had closed around him when he had started tossing and turning.

“Shhh, Greg, ‘s okay”, she mumbled, giving up her effortless tries to fall asleep herself. Though Hannah often thought she wasn’t that easily affected by all the things happening around her, this time the events were exhausting her. Running a hand through his messy hair as he wrapped his long arms around her, his head in the crook of her neck made her smile nevertheless.

He felt save with her again, and even though she knew he didn’t like depending on anyone it somehow filled her with pride to know that he trusted her.

“I’ll never do it again, I promise…”, he whispered against her skin, her hand never ceasing to stroke his hair as he tightened his embrace.

“ ‘s okay, baby… everything’s alright”, she murmured, wondering what he possibly could mean.

“Never stopped him before…”, he whispered, making her frown.

“Whom?”

“Dad… you think he’ll come back to finish?”

His tone and slow breathing told her that he was still asleep. Realization hit her unprepared, her eyes widening slightly in the dark of their bedroom.

She tried to stay calm.

“No. He won’t come back. And I’ll be here the whole night. You know I’m stronger than your father, don’t you?”

He sighed against her neck.

“Could beat him up.”

“Yes, I could beat him up.”

Somehow she was dreading to ever meet this man.

Somehow she wished for five minutes alone with him.

She didn’t know what she’d do to him if he behaved like Greg had told her.

She would be glad if she never had to face him.

 

***

 

She didn’t feel instantly that something was wrong when House stuck his head into exam room 2 the next afternoon. He had his mouth already open to ask her something when he noticed that she was in scrubs instead of her normal workclothes, frowning at her as she tended to the man in front of her who was showing her his rash.

“What happened to you? Not that I don’t like pink…”

Hannah didn’t even look at him but shoved the sleeve of the outstretched arm in front of her up.

“Some sick kid puked all over me. And this, my friend, are chicken pox.”

“You sure?” the man asked, scratching himself.

“No, I was just guessing”, the female doctor answered dryly, turning to her prescription pad.

“I’ll write you something up, out in the hall there’s a pharmacy…”

House had his free hand in the pocket of his jeans and watched the man leave, just as Hannah did, only now noticing, that he was ready to leave with his backpack and winterclothes.

“It’s not that late already, is it? I mean… it was still bright outside when I looked last…”

“Cuddy took me off the case, so I’m leaving… shouldn’t you make sure you don’t get puked on… and stay away from contageous people like him? I don’t like you being exposed to all these germs in here”, House said, not really able to wipe the concerned expression from his face. Hannah smiled at her overprotective husband.

“My immune system is… different. I think my white blood cells actually arm wrestle with every germ they encounter. And I’ve already had the chicken pox as a child, so no prob… what do you mean she took you off the case?” she interrupted herself.

House leaned against the doorframe.

“Well… since she also took me off my pain meds that means I’ll be detoxing soon, grouching at everyone in withdrawal so I think it’s actually better she took me off the case… I mean, one dwarf less… Maybe she thinks no one will notice since she is so small…”

Hannah watched him from her chair for a while, then stood up calmly.

“How are you?”

House sighed.

“Fine so far. But that’ll change…”

He dropped his gaze.

She had never seen him detoxing. Never seen him that miserable.

“Greg, if it hurts too much, I could…”

“No!” he cut her off, his blue eyes fixing on her again, tuning his voice down immediately after that outburst.

“I want her to see what she’s doing to me… at least for the moment”, he then said.

“I’ll take a cab home…”, she said silently, seeing him nod and turn around when she asked her next quiet question.

“Please… don’t do anything stupid until I’m there…?”

His head jerked in a way that could have been a nod, not turning around to her.

“See you at home…”, he mumbled.

It was all they could do right now – arrange their transportation… about anything else they would think seperately at first.

Hopefully one of them would find a solution.

 

***

 

She was somewhere else with her mind while treating the next patient. Thankfully it was only a cold so she couldn’t do any harm. When the patient had left she still sat on her chair, thinking. Fuming. Asking herself what Cuddy could want to achieve with this.

Mostly, she was fuming, though.

It was not the dean’s decision, if Greg needed medication, how much he needed, and who was prescribing it to him. It wasn’t her goddamn business.

The pen in her hand cracked into two pieces just as nurse Brenda stuck her head in.

“Is everything okay, Dr. Mc… Dr. House?” It was so easy to forget that the female doctor actually was married to her personal pain in the ass.

She took a step back as furious black eyes fixed on her.

“Sure”, the younger woman growled, getting up from her chair, walking past her.

“I’m checking out.”

Brenda opened her mouth to tell her that she just had finished her first hour of actually three but somehow didn’t dare.

They always thought the male House-version was the scary one…

The fisted hands of the female version combined with that look made her think about that again…

 

***

 

Lisa Cuddy was leaning back in her chair.

House’s ducklings were doing an MRI on the lungs of Abigail, she internally was begging that House wasn’t right  - that her liver wasn’t failing as he had predicted it. Hoping she didn’t have to beg him to save this girl, knowing she would do it, knowing he would be stubborn enough to wait.

When her door this time connected with the wall she knew it wasn’t House… or Wilson… Both of them didn’t dare to push hard enough to actually break it.

This time she could hear the glass shatter, little shards littering her carpet as a person in pink scrubs and a lab coat invaded her office.

“Do you really hate him that much?” a loud voice demanded to know, black eyes glowing at her.

“I…”

“Haven’t you hurt him enough already? Or are you just trying to find out what it needs to break a man?” Hannah continued, staring at the surprised dean that was clawing her fingernails into the leather of her chair.

“I… am trying to help…”

“ ‘s not enough you crippled him? Now you are helping by withholding his medication?! What kind of doctor are you, for Pete’s sake? He is not your lab rat!” Hannah growled, her voice rumbling dangerously low in her throat. She knew she was mean, she also knew that House had placed a lower blow.

Lisa Cuddy on the other hand was not a person to be intimidated easily. It hurt, sure, but…

“He is taking Vicodin since _I_ crippled him, and with you he definitely isn’t going to get away from it!” she snapped at the other woman who for the first time in a long time felt an inborn urge to destroy something.

“He made it through the day with three pills before you started to treat him like your lap dog. That might work with Wilson. You just don’t have any clue who Greg is. You just see the drug addict when it comes to him!”

“He made it with three pills you knew of. He came at least five times…”

“Because you were controlling him! Don’t you get it? He has to make the decision! He decides what happens with his body and no one else! It also is his decision if he wants to get away from the Vicodin. It is his decision and not the one of somebody who obviously knows nothing about him!” the neurologist growled, not even reacting to the sound of security guards and James Wilson arriving at the broken entrance door to Cuddy’s office.

“You know him for nine months now. I don’t think you know him better than we do”, the oncologist objected, waving at the guards to leave while walking into the office.

She was House’s wife, it was her duty to be upset…

“Do you really think he wouldn’t take pills behind your back? I don’t think he would have been in that much pain when Lisa was…”

The expression in her face when she turned around to him made him wish he had told the guards to stay.

“You don’t have a right to say anything here! You hurt him with no reason at all!”

Placing his hands on his hips Wilson stared at her.

“I had a very good reason!”

“You knocking up Cuddy doesn’t count as a reason! What do you think why he lashes out verbally?! Because he hates violence. He never would run into your office, beating you up for no reason at all!”

Both doctors by now looked at her wide eyed. She just had…

“And don’t even dare to deny you do her”, it growled in such a dangerous tone that Wilson took a step back while she made one towards him.

“He knew it, too! He’s been making jokes for some weeks now. And he nevertheless chose to be so rude, just to show that when he wants to hurt he can do it, more painful than any punch I could have given him! He was ridiculing me as I stood over him, breathing heavily, almost having broken my hand on his jaw. ‘ I’ll never do it again’ my assss…”

Wilson thought he heard her knuckles crack when she fisted her hand, but that could also have been his bones crashing onto the floor after her right hook had sent him down. His arm automatically went up to his head when she came closer.

“You ridiculing me now, too?! You don’t know anything about Greg. And I tell you one thing: You will be coming, begging for his help, before he comes begging for pills!”

Lisa Cuddy stared wide eyed at her oncologist who was lying on the ground with the neurologist towering over him.

“Hannah… I understand you are upset…”

The gaze the other woman flashed at her made her happy that she was still behind her desk. At least it would be an obstacle, delaying her death for some seconds…

“I am not upset. I am fucking pissed! You don’t know anything – and you sure as hell won’t succeed in destroying him!”

Her hand fisted again next to her body, so she abruptly turned around, storming out of the dean’s office and the hospital into the cold december air, not caring that she wasn’t wearing a coat.

 

Cuddy slowly went around her desk, walking next to Wilson who still sat on the floor, dabbing his fingers to the blodd running down from his nose.

“I think we made a mistake”, she said silently.

 

***

 

If felt as if a block if solid concrete sat on her chest, making it impossible to breathe, tears blinding her all of a sudden.

She had to stop, holding onto a tree next to the way to her own department, not hearing anything else than a buzzing sound in her head, only feeling the hand on her arm when her knees started feeling weak, the hand tightening its grip, a worried voice calling her name.

She was dizzy, her head spinning, so she gave in, slowly sinking to the ground, feeling the cold snow under her suddenly hot hands, once again hearing the voice.

“Hannah!”

It took real effort to lift her head, looking into a pair of blue eyes.

“Are you okay?” Robert Chase asked, his hand still on her arm. He had seen her storm out of the office of Cuddy, his mind set on the task to get House’s opinion on the case, even if the older man wasn’t his most favourite person right now.

Nevertheless Cuddy AND Wilson didn’t really seem to have a clue what could be wrong with the girl, so he put his pride on second place…

“I just… hit Wilson and yelled at Cuddy. I…”

Taking a deep breath she started to get up, only to feel that her legs were still wobbly.

“Whoa!” Chase exclaimed, once again grabbing her before she could fall down, steadying her.

“Where’s House? I think you’ve had enough for today…”

“He went home… who the hell do they think they are? They don’t have to calm him down after a nightmare of his own father beating him up… they don’t have to keep up with his insomnia or his endless hours of playing the piano in the middle of the night. Wilson doesn’t even know what he started with punching him!”

A sob freed itself from her throat as she straightened her back and started to walk down the way, Chase, too surprised by what she just had said keeping his arm around her. When she headed for the department of genetics the surgeon stopped her.

“You should go home, too.”

Hannah sighed, wiping away a tear that made its way down her cheek.

“I need to calm down… last thing Greg needs is a freaked out wife…”

“Last thing he needs is his wife breaking down because she’s keeping everything to herself”, the younger man retorted, but started walking again into the direction she was headed.

“I’ll take you home. I have to talk to him about the case anyways”, he then said.


	20. Merry little Christmas

To say he was surprised that Chase followed Hannah into their home was an understatement.

Greg House had taken his place on the couch, trying to concentrate on Spongebob rather than on the unnerving throb in his thigh, trying to read something rather than concentrating on Spongebob.

Both didn’t work, yet he decided to only sit there, waiting for his wife rather than trying to do anything to distract himself that would end with broken bones or cuts.

He didn’t expect to hear her key being turned in the lock only half an hour after he came home.

And he wasn’t even done frowning at her pale face as she went through the living room directly into the bathroom, leaving the entrance door wide open, for his hurt duckling to stick his head in.

With his gaze wandering from the closed bathroomdoor to the open entrance door he was wondering what was going on.

“I think you are right about the liver failure”, Chase started, still standing in the door frame with House frowning at him.

“I’m off the clock.”

The younger man sighed, finally walking into the apartment, closing the door behind him, leaving the cold winter weather outside.

“You obviously saw something.”

He wanted to answer something rude, but his eyes fixed on the dark bruise on his duckling’s chin, making him unconsciously rub his own hematome.

“Did you get that looked at?”

Chase shrugged.

“I’m fine. Abby isn’t. I think that’s more important. Are you going to help us, or are you going to pout because Cuddy’s got the upper hand right now?”

“She’s torturing me. And I should help her to keep her dwarf?” House spat.

Chase just stared at him.

“Yeah, it’s all about you. Just as always.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

The younger man crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“That as soon as a problem arises everything that matters is you. You might have very good reasons for that, but right now it isn’t you alone anymore. So just tell me what you think about the case and then go and take care of your wife for heaven’s sake!”

With that his glance went back to the bathroom door again, recalling her face as she came in, asking himself for the first time why Chase of all people was with her.

“What did she do?”

“Broke Cuddy’s door, Wilson’s nose and then almost fainted on the way to genetics”, Chase told him matter of factly, watching the other man’s eyes go wide with horror.

“She’s okay so far, I think it’s only been the stress”, the surgeon continued as House put his head in his hands, sighing.

 “I guess, Wilson was right, then.”

“About what?”

“Me being a horrible husband. What kind of man puts his wife through all this judical crap and then has his boss and ex best friend push him into an involuntary rehab?!” the diagnostician growled, cursing his luck to fuck up everything just in the most unfitting moment.

Chase looked at him for a while, as his head was still leaning heavily in his hands but didn’t say a word. He didn’t have any experience with what a good husband should be like. Though House definitely didn’t match his picture of a bad one.

Lifting his head out of his hands House looked around in his living room.

“Great… we don’t even have a Christmas tree. What kind of holidays are these going to be with me detoxing and…”

Both of them hadn’t thought about the holidays, with the court and everything else on their mind, Cuddy making sure that it was really going to be bad memory.

He was surprised by the fabric of the couch shifting next to him as Chase sat down.

“Talk to Cuddy… tell her…”, the younger man started but was cut off.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am not using my wife as an excuse to get my drugs. And Cuddy has lost her right to know.”

Chase rolled his eyes.

“Then I’m going to write you a prescription.”

“And have her fire you? Nope. That’s my job, you know?”

The younger man did him the favour and smirked.

“My contract as fellow under you expires in two months… I’d have to find a new job anyways.”

Somehow House didn’t wonder that Chase didn’t ask for a new contract.

“I’m sorry that I punched you.”

For a while the two men looked at each other.

“I know”, Chase said then.

“And I don’t know, why I did it. I hate…”, his voice caught and he swallowed hard once, his hand unconsciously curling around his impaired thigh.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. You don’t hurt friends…”

He was surprised by the fact that he considered the Aussie a friend…

“And you don’t watch friends getting hurt. I’ll write you a prescription for Vicodin and deal with Cuddy later.”

“Rather make it one for burprenophine”, House said, this time being watched out of astonished eyes. He himself had his gaze directed on his coffee table, eyeing his recent lecture.

Three possibilities. Two of them not really likely to help. One meaning brain surgery.

“You really want to do this now?” the surgeon asked.

“Well… you might add metaclopamin, so I don’t have to climb out of my bed every time I feel sick… and tramadol…”

“Gabapentin’s been desinged for damaged nerves”, Chase stated, getting a tired look.

“I know. I also know that I can’t sleep on that stuff.”

He was scrutinized for a while.

“Why now? Why so fast? And what happens if it doesn’t work? Cuddy can’t keep your medication away all the time.”

House leaned back on his couch, his eyes never leaving the pile of paper in front of him.

“We’ve been discussing the possibility of changing my pain management. Then Cuddy and Wilson thought they had to interfere before I could really find out if I want brain surgery or rather contact Washington for experimental gene therapy against cronic pain… I favour Ketamine, since it already showed some results and all I have to do is sleep for three days…”

Chase frowned.

“Then why didn’t you tell them about this? I’m sure they wouldn’t have…”

“Because it’s none of their business. That is only about me and Hannah, and how we decide… actually, it’s how I decide, since she accepts me the way I am…”

Chase didn’t answer that, letting the older man believe that it was his decision. Everyone knew that women could manipulate you into almost anything and you still did believe it was your own idea.

“I’d go for Ketamin, too. Gene therapy’s been only tested on rats so far…”, he said instead, making the diagnostician frown at him.

“Yes, I am up to date on pain management… especially since Cuddy and Wilson decided to torture the best diagnostician we have while failing to come up with any idea what could be wrong with our patient. Liver’s going to fail.”

House sighed.

Then he decided to help. Well, it wasn’t Cuddy, begging him to help…

“I don’t think the liver dysfunction is relevant. Dwarf’s got a global problem, and it’s going to spread throughout her entire body until you stop it…”

“If that were true, more than her lungs and liver would be affected”, the australian pointed out.

“It will be. It'll spread through the biliary tree and hit her pancreas next. Stop retracing your steps, get ahead of it. Forget the liver and focus on the pancreas, because after that... actually after that, it doesn't really matter what it is because all roads lead to a dead dwarf “, House offered, seeing his duckling nodd while getting up.

“Okay. I’ll see if I can convince our mindless leaders of that. You two going to be okay?”

Both men looked at one another for a while, House finally shrugging his shoulders.

“Do we have another choice?”

 

***

 

When Chase was gone he eased himself up from the couch, leaning more heavily on his cane than usually, making his way to the bathroom, frowning when he found no one in there. He continued for the bedroom, finding her curled into a ball on top of the blankets, eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not daring to leave the doorframe, watching her with fear in his eyes as she finally locked her gaze on him.

“I’m fine… except for I don’t know why I exploded like this”, she tried to joke, running a hand over her face as he left the door heading for the bed, cawling on it behind her and closing his arms around her, burying his head against her hair.

“I’m so sorry…”, he whispered against the soft curls, his arms pulling her against his chest.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Sure it is. I’m the one with the drug-problem… and the Cuddy-problem.”

Despite everything else the woman in his arms started to laugh. Turning around in his arms she snuggled against his chest, her head burried against his colar bone.

“I don’t think you’re the only one.”

“You’re on Vicodin-withdrawal, too?” he halfheartedly joked.

“No. I had a Cuddy-overdose this afternoon.”

 

***

 

She fell asleep a few minutes after he had climbed into bed with her, his eyes never leaving her relaxed form in his arms, every now and then gritting his teeth against the increasing throb in his thigh, his hand never ceasing to caress her back, though.

The next days wouldn’t be fun for both of them, that he knew definitely and he was sorry that she had to live through that with him, yet being glad that she was there. He would be grumpy, snapping at everyone – and knew she could keep up with it. Sighing he buried his nose in her hair.

She shouldn’t have to take care of her detoxing husband.

She should drive him crazy with crazy cravings, her mood swings should drive him nuts, yet being the dutiful husband he would be nodding his approval to anything she said.

Bad thing was he still had to knock her up before she could develop any of these habits.

Closing his eyes he breathed in her scent, wishing he could just close his eyes and sleep through the next days – far away from Cuddy because that would mean he’d be missing some other body parts – while his body got rid of the Vicodin.

 

***

 

He must have dosed off for a while he decided when distant knocking on his front door woke him. He growled slightly, being surprised by the hand that was holding him down when he tried to get up.

“It’s Cuddy.”

Watching his wife closely House frowned.

“Could be also Chase, or Santa…”, he tried to joke while Hannah freed herself out of his embrace, getting up from the bed.

“It’s Cuddy. And I’ll deal with her”, the neurologist growled and House just watched her go, somehow feeling pitty for the dean… on the other hand – watching his shaky hand that was lifted to stop Hannah stopped that feeling immediately.

He didn’t know that Lisa Cuddy in front of the door was feeling shaky as well. Not only because Abigail’s condition was worsening, but also because she didn’t know what waited for her behind the door. Was he detoxing already? She was sure that he still was angry… and she didn’t know if she could take another low blow against her qualities, be it mother or doctor. And knowing him the low blows would come. So a shaky arm was lifted again to knock on his door, when it was ripped open.

It was not the pair of blue eyes she had expected to stare at her. Instead coal black burned in still visible rage and now she really wanted to run.

“I… he was right…”

Hannah crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“I told you you’d come begging for his help.”

“It is his job to…”

“Be tortured by you?”

Lisa Cuddy sighed.

“Once your anger has subsided…”

Hannah roled her eyes at that. Yeah. She was the right species for just forgetting about her rage.

“… you will understand that I, we, Wilson and me are doing this to help him…”

She tried to get into the condo, but her way was blocked by the other woman who effectively just made a step to the side.

“Let me tell you one thing: It is not your duty anymore to help him, not that he needed any help.”

This time Cuddy rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, sure, you just love that he’s been popping one pill after the other.”

Again dark eyes scrutinized her, reducing her so something that didn’t even know anymore why she was here.

“I love him the way he is. And I accept that he does things the way he wants to do them. Did you ever even think about talking to him before you decided to put him on cold turkey?” Hannah’s voice had gone softer, yet her tone was still pretty indimidating.

She knew that her husband was not easy. Still that didn’t justify something like that.

“You don’t know how many times I talked to him about getting help… rehab, psycological, god knows what. And you…”

“Ah, I see, you think I’m doing nothing against it.”

This time it was the dean who crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Don’t you want him to be clean…?”

“First of all, I don’t want to see my husband suffer from all this pain… by the way, how is Wilson’s nose?” the Saiyajin asked with a hidden smile as Cuddy flinched.

“You broke it…”

“Good”, was all Hannah said, still staring her boss down.

Her boss who suddenly remembered why she had come.

“I really need to see him.”

“You took him off the case.”

“The girl’s pancreas is failing, her insulin production is almost non-existent. She will die!”

Hannah made a pause, still staring at the other woman.

“Of that you should have thought before this.”

With that she closed the door and Cuddy’s knocks followed her on her way to the bedroom.

“Dr. McLachlan! She will die!”

Hannah ignored her and climbed back into bed where House was lying on his back, hands crossed behind his neck.

“What did she want?”

“Your former patient’s pancreas is failing. Maybe you want to call the kiddies. And tell them to make it look as if they guessed alone what’s wrong because I want her to feel really sorry for sending you home”, she silently growled and rolled into a ball at his side as he fished for the mobile phone in his jacket.

He briefly stopped and gritted his teeth as another spasm ran through his leg.

“She didn’t give you any pills by chance?”

“No… ‘m sorry”, Hannah murmured while being tugged against his side and wrapped her legs around his bad one already half asleep when he hit the speed dial for his conference room.

And he hoped that one of his ducklings would answer, and not his ex-best friend.

“Cramer…”

 

***

 

Another loud knocking sound from his front door woke the diagnostician, and after a quick check that told him that his wife was still asleep he disentangled himself from her arms. He flinched when he placed his right foot on the floor, gritting his teeth against the pain that was sure to come and was not surprised at all when it came. Been there, done that, it was not the first time for him to wake up to no pills and a leg he wanted to cut off finally. The knocking sound didn’t subside, though, and even though his old self would have gladly ignored it while imaging the person in front of the door go madder and madder, his new, married, caring-for-his-wife self told him to suck it up and open the damn door.

Of course, it would be smashed shut if Wilson or Cuddy were standing out there by chance. Not because that was what his old self would have done, but because his new, married, caring-for-his-wife self had to promise it to his wife before she fell asleep again.

Using his cane and the wall of his hallway for support House slowly made his way to the entrance door of his condo. Another knock made him roll his eyes, while biting his tongue to not yell at the person in front of it.

And getting real big eyes when he finally had opened the door to find an evergreen tree out there, accompanied by his three ducklings and a ridiculously high pile of presents and flimsy stuff to decorate said tree.

The most intelligent thing that would come out of his mouth was: “How’s the patient?”


	21. Maybe there's a God above

Greg House still watched his christmas tree when Hannah made her way back into the living room after putting the last couple of glasses into the dishwasher. Cramer, Chase and Cameron had left only ten minutes ago and he had to admit he’d had a very pleasing evening, even though he wasn’t really hungry and Hannah only allowed him one glass of Scotch to dull the throb in his thigh.

Sitting down next to him his wife leaned against him, her eyes also wandering over the tree.

“It smells good”, she said while looking at the present he got her. It was made of skin, and had a bow tied around it. Though when he had mentioned it she didn’t think in terms of a pair of boots. Pretty ones. That she could wear without getting wet feet. House just smiled at the set of ancient torture instruments she gave him, knowing he was not only interested in the history and the function they had had, but also in the boost it would give his threats… she knew him well.

When she pecked him on his lips he looked at her confused.

“What was that for?”

“Aw… come on. You planned this.”

House shook his head, catching her hand that was roaming over his chest.

“I had no clue they would come over… I just mentioned to Chase that Wilson maybe was right when he said I would be a horrible hu… I mean, I mentioned we don’t even have a tree and what first christmas that would be…”, biting his tongue he interrupted himself and stared again at his tree, wondering all of a sudden why his australian duckling would do something like that for him, especially after he had hit him.

“I should have broken other things than his nose…”, Hannah growled in response while sitting up. House looked at her when he felt her move away from him.

“You shouldn’t have broken anything, neither in his face, nor elsewhere.”

“He attacked you. I defend what’s mine.”

“One day after he hit me? And you know… somehow he was right.”

This time Hannah jumped up from the couch.

“He had no right at all. He was attacking you out of nowhere, not to forget he claims to be your best friend. He could have seriously hurt you and…”

“Stop it right now!”

“No, he…!”

His cane came in contact with the coffee table rather louldy.

“Don’t you dare to got there. You’ll only end up ranting about the guy who hit the poor, defenseless cripple!” House growled, asking himself where the festive mood from only a few seconds ago had gone. She furiously glared at him while her voice got louder.

“I have every right to rant!”

“He had every right to punch me!” House replied.

“No! He…!”

“I would kill everyone saying about you what I said about Cuddy!”

That shut her up for some seconds, only to let her eyes catch the movement of his right hand on his leg, massaging the muscle. His eyes didn’t meet hers.

“I didn’t know they were an item until Wilson punched me. I made jokes and just could think about the next pill…”

Hannah put her hands on her hips.

“Because you are in pain. She just is in her midlife crisis ‘ _Oh god, I’m successful but have no life’_ and you know he can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

Rolling his eyes up to the ceiling House sighed.

“I think this time it’s different.”

When she opened her mouth to contradict he finally locked his eyes with hers.

“Please, can we not argue today? I’m exhausted, and if I have to remind you of that little fainting spell…”

Hannah sighed.

“Chase is a blabbermouth.”

“’s not easy for all of them. They want to help me which puts their job at a risk… and Mommy decides to go bersek on uncle Jimmy…”, House explained, seeing a soft smile spread on her face. At that he frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me!”

She just continued to smile.

“It’s just nice to hear you defend your kiddies.”

Tilting her head to one side she watched him as he pulled a face and added one word.

“Daddy.”

House heavily sighed at that.

“I blame the withdrawal for that!” he then exclaimed.

“It can’t be that you just like them?” his wife smiled, while walking around the coffee table to sit back down on the couch next to him.

“Nope. I’m the snarky, vile, yet brilliant…”

“.. with no ego at all…”, Hannah interrupted but was ignored.

“… doctor, who right now thinks he should go to bed as long as he still can fall asleep without using a hammer for narcotic”, House finished his sentence, reaching for his cane but was stopped by Hannah.

“You don’t need a hammer for that.”

He watched her briefly, but then grabbed his cane, easing himself up from his sitting position with a groan.

“I already told you that I don’t want you to numb my nerves.”

The redhead again tilted her head to one side.

“I was not talking about numbing nerves”, she said silently, pulling him back down onto the couch.

“If you talk about numbing my will to live by watching “A christmas carol” with me, I’m outta here”, he said with a smirk on his face, reminding himself on their conversation about getting into each other’s pants.

She just looked at him seriously.

“Will you let _me_ help you, Greg?” she asked, getting a confused look as answer.


	22. Now, that everything has changed

Three months had gone by like nothing, with things turning back to normal for Greg House, eventually. Well, except for the fact that he was not talking to Wilson or Cuddy other than for job issues.

Currently, however, he was sitting on his couch, watching TV and waiting for his wife to finally get ready for their date. Munching on his tortilla chip he grinned at himself – he had not forgot about the date of their first, unforgettable encounter, while Hannah looked at him with a blank face when he told her to scrub up to celebrate their anniversary.

“I don’t know why you always say you cannot cook – that Guacamole is to die for”, he hollered, scratching the last bit out of the bowl. She was still rummaging around in the bedroom, so he leaned back and put his feet up on the coffee table.

“I don’t think that dicing up stuff and mashing it with avocadoes is considered cooking. Have you seen my Manolo’s?” her voice came back from the bedroom, making him think once again how domestic they sounded.

House just mouthed a “Nope”, popping the p at the end and turned off the TV. Stepping up from the couch he marched into the bedroom, being greeted by Hannah’s rear as she dove under the bed, and scratched his head at the feeling of Déjà vu.

“You know, maybe we just stay here and forget about dinner”, he suggested with a smirk, as she reappeared again and put a strand of her hair behind her ear while she sat down on her calves, looking up to him and eventually smiling.

He looked healthy. The ever present exhaustion that had been caused by the ever present pain had disappeared from his face. She couldn’t help but snicker when she saw him bouncing on his heels impatiently, because his wife once again wanted one certain pair of shoes despite the fact that she had tons of lookalikes.

She extended her hand and let him pull her to her feet, intentionally overbalancing and crushing against his chest, kissing him briefly. She might have been tempted to call off dinner where ever he had reserved a table, however, somebody chose this moment to ring the doorbell. So she just stole a second kiss and let go off him, disappearing in the bathroom.

“Nah. You vowed to never forget to feed me. Could you please see who’s at the door?”

He sighed exasperatedly, but then turned around to figure out who was impatient enough to ring for a second time in only 15 seconds. House rolled his eyes, turning around to answer the door, stubbing the pinkie toe of his right foot on one of the gazillion boxes standing around in the hallway. Cursing that single specific box, he limped towards the entrance, where the person at the other side rang for a third time.

He stopped right in front the door, not really knowing whom to expect. Cuddy and Wilson had given up on appearing, or trying to call him – both him and Hannah had made it clear that they wanted professional contact only. And even though he missed his friend, under the current circumstances it was the best for all of them…

“Good Lord, I’m coming!” he yelled, as the doorbell rang for the fourth time and he had the handle already in his hand.

Ripping the door open, he stared at the two persons in front of it. He had anticipated a lot, Chase maybe, who was missing the thrill of diagnostics because he was bored beyond belief in the surgery department, coming over for a beer. Cameron and Cramer, because… he couldn’t come up with a reason, except for coming over for a beer, they did not have a case in the moment. And his brand-new internist duckling, Dr. Remy Hadley also had no reason to pay him a visit – and did not know where he lived.

He sure as hell had not expected to find his mother in front of his entrance door, his father right behind her, wearing an annoyed expression, and holding an umbrella to save them from the seasonal rain/snow mixture.

“Mom? What are you…”

She interrupted him, swatting his arm.

“9 months! You have not talked to me in over half a year, you are not answering my calls, you are not returning them! And when I tried to call you again yesterday, a recorded message from your telephone company informed me that this number has been disconnected!”

She was yelling at him, he could not quite tell if she was crying, so he threw his father an exasperated look. The other man did not even change his expression. Grabbing his mother’s hand that was still hitting his forearm with each word she said, he pulled her into the hallway, maneuvering both of his parents in between boxes to prevent another painful contact with his toes.

Blythe House took in the sight in front of her, not caring in the moment that John had been complaining two minutes ago how much the tickets had cost and that their rental car was way too expensive and there was already a scratch on the door. He had told her that she was crazy, that if anything serious had happened to Gregory (why was he always calling him Gregory? Why did he nerver say _our son_?) they would have been informed.

Normally she agreed with his _No news are good news_ policy when it concerned her son. But 9 months of nothing? She had left messages, also in the hospital, and he had not responded to one of them. She had to at least see with her own eyes that he was still alive.

“You are moving”, she stated, taking in the amount of boxes, the lack of the piano next to the door, feeling the next pang of hurt feelings.

House scratched the back of his head, not entirely sure how to handle this situation. Then, the cheery voice of his wife announced that she was ready for dinner.

“Found them!!! Now feed me, oh husband of mine!” she grinned, stepping into the living room and stopping dead on her tracks.

Blythe just stared at the woman in front of her, wearing a nice dress, and fancy shoes, and then directed her gaze to her son, who also was dressed in a suit, and who was smiling warmly at that person, reaching out for her.

The least he could do was introduce his wife to his parents, right?

His mother, however, let out a loud gasp before he had any chance to say something.

“You are pregnant!!” she exclaimed, and House rolled his eyes.

Okay, the obvious bump might actually be more of an eye catcher.

 

***

 

Of course they had cancelled dinner and whatever romantic encounter he had planned afterwards including either the bathtub or shower, and ordered take away instead.

Blythe House was hurt, that he could see. His father’s stern expression still had not changed, and he was not sure what his old man thought. The fact that they always came in a package made it easier for him to deal with the fact that he had not told her about his marriage, the problems he’d had at work, or bump, about which they had found out two weeks after the rather dramatic appearance of Hannah in Cuddy’s office, which had resulted in a broken nose for Wilson.

House did not want to think back to those days, where he secretly had helped his minions to save the patient, but refused to see his boss and friend. They had put him on cold turkey, without even talking to him, deciding it was the time to get away from the pills.

It was Hannah whom he finally let help. His wife, the only person who had any say, next to him. Her grandmother owned a hospital in Connecticut, and Barbara had agreed to try the Ketamin treatment there.

He’d had a very vivid dream about green guys with antennae on their heads one night, getting a frown from Hannah. The Ketamin should have knocked him out completely...

House just shrugged it off. He did not care about green guys or blue ducks. He could walk again, he could not wait to start jogging with her once the ice and snow was gone, and that was when she filled him in that she would have to take it easy with running the next few months. They were celebrating New Years with her family, where he made his mother-in-law wonder about the fact that her most direct, sarcastic and obnoxious son-in-law got along best with her husband.

She did not complain about that. One year without Vegeta killing their oldest daughter’s husband with his eyes for knocking her up more than 20 years ago, was a good year.

He was so incredibly happy, yet, his realistic – ok, pessimist – self knew that most probably something equally bad might ruin it as well. He had enjoyed this huge, incredibly loud and chaotic family, and was wondering at the same time about himself, because normally he did not like crowds.

The youngest kids of his parents-in-law were not even teenagers, yet, while their oldest grandchildren were about to start their own families, there were arguments and bickering and some of them didn’t show up for months, but you could tell this right away: Go against one of us and you’ll have to deal with the entire pack!

And he felt like a part of it, which made him feel flattered, so he was grinning like an idiot when he informed his father-in-law that he also had knocked up one of his daughters, getting a death-glare at first, but then the older man cracked into one of his rare smiles.

“Was about time, son!”

Two days later they had learned that Cuddy had miscarried, which confirmed his theory of balance, good stuff always being equaled out by bad stuff. Informing her about their good news had been hell, and the only reason that they were on tolerable terms in the moment was that Cara had told her. His words about her being bad mother material, shouted at her in pain, they still stung. The stress he put her through when he was on cold turkey of course also didn’t help. So, they only talked about non-baby-related stuff, such as the wish of Chase to work as a surgeon again, and his request for a new third duckling.

And then… well, he diagnosed, he fed his wife, they decided to move into a house close to Princeton, and his phone number had been disconnected because who ever took care that the world did not learn about the rather special ancestry of his wife decided that they should have a new number for whatever reason.

What reason he had to ignore his mother, he still needed to figure out.

 

***

 

Blythe watched the woman who had married her son as she inhaled her food and couldn’t help but smile. She remembered that phase, when she had been pregnant with Greg, and was just hungry all the time – and not only for food, to be honest.

The smile faded rather quickly, again, when she remembered that her son had hidden the massive changes in his personal life from her for an entire year. She knew the main reason was John, however, whenever she tried to visit Greg alone, heck, do anything on her own, her husband was there, following her like a shadow.

It had been easier when he wasn’t retired. The past few years she had the feeling he was just bored out of his mind and did not know what to do with himself.

John was refreshingly quiet this evening, she decided, after complaining all the time on the way. But maybe that was just the utter shock after finding out that their son was married and going to be a father.

It took her a while to digest that, only to find out she was having an even harder time to picture herself as a grandmother, cooing over a newborn… with a brief side-glance towards her husband, she could not picture him as a grandfather at all…

Looking up from her food her eyes followed House, as he was walking up and down between the kitchen and the living room – without a cane. When he had let them in, he had been limping. But also that was gone… In the last 30 minutes he had been answering 4 calls, all of of which included doctor-speak, and he was running around like an energizer bunny while barking orders at other people.

“Wait, let me ask the neurologist, I guess she should know”, oh, his voice was dripping with sarcasm again when he only half covered the speaker, yelling into the living room: “Hey, Han, the brain’s connected to the spinal cord, right?”

Blythe House rolled her eyes. She had raised him to be a polite, considerate person… well, she had tried, he’d always been offensive and impertinent, except for when John had been around. And that was only because he had been afraid of his old man when he still was a child.

Hannah just smiled, silently chanting “The hip bone’s connected to the backbone…”, making House laugh in turn before he told the person on the other end of the call to do some tests and wait till the morning, or call him again if there was another seizure. When he had disconnected the call, the phone instantly rang again…

When he was finally done, House fell down heavily on his couch and reached for his food, which of course was cold now.

“Your brother is crazy”, he told his wife, reaching out to refill his mother’s glass.

Hannah had just pushed spoonful of her desert into her mouth, mumbling a “which one?” around it.

“The one that shares your birthday… Navy guy…?” His wife just had too many siblings.

“I thought Matt was going to help us moving?” Hannah frowned, and House frowned back.

“Yah… so?”

“Matthew’s the FBI guy that shares my birthday. James is the Navy guy, and I think he’s camping out somewhere in Nevada showing Tom Cruise wannabes how to fly a Tomcat. Is Dad still coming?”

“Yah”, House answered, making a disgusted face when he put a forkful of his cold Lasagna in his mouth. “I’m gonna heat that up…”, he then declared, moving to the kitchen, only to groan in annoyance when he realized that the microwave also had been put in a box already.

Hannah snickered when she heard him rummaging through boxes, a triumphant “Hah!” announcing that he had found the microwave in the first one, and then turned to her in-laws.

Both had not said much, yet. To be honest, John House had said hello and was scrutinizing her since then. Blythe seemed to have a hard time figuring out what to make of the entire situation.

Hannah felt guilty that she had not given his parents any thought in the past months. He had made clear once that he did not want her to meet them, especially not his father. Still. They were his family, and she blamed bump and hormones for feeling this cheesy.

Finishing her desert, she put the bowl on the table and leaned back on the couch, her hand coming to rest on bump without thinking about it, however, now she could feel two pairs of eyes glued to it.

“How… how far along are you?” Blythe asked, feeling incredibly shy. Hannah just smiled.

“18th week.” Actually, she was only 12 weeks along, but hybrids just grew incredibly fast, with most pregnancies being finished after 32 weeks. And since her bump was already this pronounced…

While Blythe smiled, wanting to ask if she already felt some movements, John just glared at her.

“And how many months ago did you decide to marry him? Is it even his?”

Greg’s Mom gasped, Hannah just tilted her head, now scrutinizing the older man. Sure, he was a Marine and maybe was not squirming under her gaze as easily, still, that didn’t mean that she would let him talk to her like that in her own house, implying that…

“Greg and I got married half a year ago, and yes, he is bump’s father. And before you accuse me of being a gold-digger, google the McLachlan family, start out with Zoe. I own a multi-million dollar trust fund, if that is what you need to calm your nerves…”, she said in her business voice that normally made people shrink in front of her.

House senior didn’t.

He did frown though, when Greg appeared in the doorway to the kitchen with his warmed-up food, sending him a smirk.

“I’d rather stop that, before she starts threatening you with her Mom. Kick-ass lawyer. Or even worse, her Dad. The guy likes me and he doesn’t have a problem killing for his kids.”

John House looked as if he wanted to say something, maybe starting a fight they had many times before – the world according to John House, and how Greg always was of a different opinion.

When he opened his mouth, Greg cut him off.

“I won’t argue with you, Dad. If you have a problem with all of this, just leave. Mom, you are very welcome to visit the new house if you want to. Just give me a call tomorrow morning.”

House was surprised by his own, calm voice. While he hated the confrontations with his father, he never evaded one single argument before.

“We are leaving tomorrow morning”, House senior announced and was ignored, because Greg was watching his mother. He could see her internal fight, wanting to be close to her son, to get to know her daughter-in-law, be close to her grandchild, while on the other hand there was John – then man she loved, the man Greg knew she had betrayed, the man who was suspicious ever since House had confronted him at 12 years of age, the man who was not letting her do one single step out of his watch...

She reluctantly got up from the couch when he did. She, however, did not sprint for the door and grab her jacket in the process of doing so, but reached out for Greg, to at least say goodbye.

He surprised her again, pulling her into a hug, whispering a “ _You_ are welcome here anytime, Mom.

Hugging Hannah was awkward. She knew this was her son’s wife, but that was about it. When she promised to keep in touch, Blythe wanted to cry. Only her husband was able to destoy something as wonderful as becoming grandparents (after actually having given up the hope somewhat around the time when this _I-don’t-want-children_ Stacy-person had moved in with Greg).

When they were gone, both Greg and Hannah sank down on their couch, his arm automatically going around her, her head resting against his chest, his hand stroking bump.

“That was…” Hannah started, not really knowing what to say.

“Yah, it was. John House at his best – now you know where my charm is coming from. I should call Mom, though, when they’re back home… I didn’t even realize that it was such a long time…”

Yes. He should do that. Blythe seemed nice. John, on the other hand...

“You _do_ know that this guy is not your biological father, don’t you?” she stated.


	23. The things I missed...

When the door bell rang the next morning, Hannah first thought they had overslept, and their pack of helpers was already waiting outside.

House just sleepily grumbled and turned to his other side, hugging his pillow close as Hannah dared to throw a small side glance to the alarm clock. Nope, they still had two hours…

Since her husband was snoring happily next to her, she took a deep breath and got out of bed just as the doorbell rang for a second time, sounding somewhat hesitant, if a doorbell could sound like that. She needed to go to the toilet anyway, she just could have a look who had the nerve to disturb them this early as well.

So she trudged down the hallway, bed hair and half closed eyes included, not caring about the fact that she wore nothing more than panties and one of Greg’s band shirts spanning around her belly.

She felt incredibly underdressed when she was faced with Blythe House.

“I… I am sorry. It is too early, I did not want to interrupt…” the older woman stammered as Hannah took in the lack of make-up, the red-rimmed eyes and the hoarse voice of her mother-in-law.

“There is no need to. Please, come on in. Let me make a small detour to the bathroom, and then I will get the coffee going and have a look what is there for breakfast… maybe I’ll have Greg raid the bakery down the road…”

She led Blythe towards the living room, basically because that’s where the last of the furniture was still unpacked. After she sat down the older woman, the urge to empty her bladder thanks to bump’s trampoline artistics became unbearable, so she left her, and took another detour to the bedroom to grab some joggers after minding her business.

Greg was still snoring, and after a long look she decided to let him sleep for now, making a beeline for the kitchen, and reappearing shortly afterwards with two mugs of coffee and some bagels, cream cheese and jam in the living room.

Blythe was still sitting on the spot where she had left her, and had not even taken off her jacket, looking as if she was still contemplating what she was doing here, if it was not a rather big mistake.

“I guess you left your husband in the hotel room?” she asked, sitting down right next to her, obviously startling the older woman.

“I… I left him at the airport. We had a rather big disagreement after we left yesterday.”

Really. Who would have thought that? Of course, Hannah offered a more sensitive “Oh, I am sorry…”

Blythe sighed. “What for? You did nothing wrong.” She had gone behind her husband’s back because he could not give her a child. She told him as soon as she found out that she was pregnant, she told him she would understand if he would leave her… maybe, she would have had a better life with Greg’s actual father. He chose to stay and not only make her but also her child’s life a living hell… and she never did anything against it… and now…

She was sobbing by now, things that had been hidden so long because she felt indepted to the man she married coming out, and Hannah was sure that John had had to listen some very special speech either yesterday, or this morning at the airport.

“He finally managed to estrange my son enough from me, that he was keeping his finding a nice girl that he wanted to marry and is having a child with from his parents.”

“I would have told you, Mom.”

Greg had appeared in the doorway, unconsciously being woken by the scent of coffee, then, more consciously realizing that there were people talking in his living room.

Scooting down next to Hannah he took a large gulp out of her cup, ignoring the loathing glance his wife sent him. His hand resting against bump, he was sofly caressing Hannah against the fabic of her/his shirt, making his mother go all watery again.

John had never touched her belly, had never wanted to feel her baby kick, had not been there when Greg was born. They had tried for so long to have a child, he was assuming that something was wrong with _her_ openly… and then one silly mistake on her behalf had changed everything. Why could he not be happy that their dream was coming true now? Why rather have no child at all? He also had refused to learn who was the biological father, so Blythe had taken the liberty to name her son after the man, one of the few things where she had quietly revolted against her husband.

Her son reached out for her with his other hand.

“How mad is he?” was all he asked, and for once his mother just shrugged. For once she did not try to smoothen the waters, making sure that John was ok with everything.

“I don’t know. I… do not care, Greg. I missed so much in your life because I was always minding him. This is something I do not want to miss, and if you let me I want to be a part of your little family’s life.”

***

Blythe realized pretty soon that Greg’s new family was all but little. She had calmed down over breakfast, listening to the G rated version of how they had met, Hannah almost immediately moving in with her son (obviously he had some MO there), and the horrible incident of her being shot that made him realize just how much he loved her.

She only realized she had grabbed Hannah’s hands in hers when both Greg and his wife were playing the incident down, rather laughing about how flustered Foreman had been when she had addressed him as an inferior human being.

Before she could find our more, the doorbell rang. Quite impatiently, as if someone was pressing the button in a rhythm on purpose.

As if on clue, Hannah jumped up, surprisingly agile for someone being 18 weeks pregnant, and ripped the door open, to find a handsome dark-haired man outside who obviously had not counted on her jumping his bones.

“Matt!!!”

“Whoa there, sis, hold your horses, you’re carrying precious cargo!” The taller man spun her around carefully before putting her down on her feet.

“Dave couldn’t make it, obviously his boss can’t live without his legal advisor. I brought Tom, Dan, and Sam instead.”

Blythe heard a couple of _Hi_ in the background, one of them sounding suspiciously female, and turned to watch her son who was grinning like a mad man.

“You need three of your younger siblings to replace David?” he hollered towards the entrance, having Matt snicker.

“If you want to have as much broken stuff afterwards as he would have caused, then yeah.”

A slap on the back of his head made the younger man fall a step forward, clasping his abused skul, but never stopping his grin as his spitting image, just a little older, marched into the condo, caressing Hannah’s cheek and running a hand over her belly.

“Hi, Dad”, the younger man mouthed cheekily, getting another glare from his father.

“I will let your brother know about that when _you_ need our help moving again. Can we get going? Your mother decided that we want to visit Harm and Cara, obviously skyping every other day is not enough to see their little creep growing. The kid will have to fend off the girls with a stick already in kindergarten…”

“Pft, you never skyped with me and Jane when Eric and Fiona were born”, Matt complained.

“Because Skype was not invented yet in ’96 when you decided to go with prayer… God, now I feel old”, Hannah said at the same time as her father mentioned that they had lived right next door back then.

House just grinned at his mother.

“Welcome to the McLachlan family.”

***

The McLachlan family obviously knew how to efficiently move an entire household. And there were many of them.

Blythe had learned that Hannah had 15 siblings, and that just as many nephews and nieces were already calling her son _Uncle Greg_.

There were at least 20 people running around, three of them co-workers of Gregory (or his ducklings, that’s how he introduced them, even though he admitted that the blonde with the nice hair and the Australian accent was an ex-duckling), the rest somehow related to Hannah.

All the time she could think back, her son had never felt at ease with anyone, and even less in crowds. Back then, when he was still a child, she had blamed their moving every 6 months or, if they were lucky, every year, that at one point he gave up on making friends. It stayed like this, though, when he had his own, stable life, Stacy being one of the rare exceptions, and also she could not always tolerate his mood swings, even before the thing with the leg.

She and Hannah had been banned to the porch with some coffee and cookies, and they had been chatting easily, Hannah more or less inhaling the cookies alone, until Blythe was too distracted by watching her son interact with all the people. He was joking, having fun and was not limping anymore, and he was buzzing by every now and then to steal a kiss… when had her Gregory ever been this unwound?

Her breath hitched as Hannah’s father amicably patted Greg’s back and called him _son_ while both of them were mocking Matthew again. It did sound like the older man was used to addressing him like that… and that Greg was used to hearing it from him.

Her thoughts wandered to John. Why had he chosen loathing her and her child over having a happy, fulfilled life?

Why had she been too much of a coward to change things? Why…

A hand sneaked into hers, making her look up again, only realizing now that she had started crying silently.

“Do you want a tour through the house? They are almost done unpacking on the upper floor”, Hannah offered.

Blythe nodded, not trusting her voice to say anything.

“Oh, and by the way. You are staying with us the rest of the weekend. Let him stew”, her daughter-in-law all but ordered, making her send a surprised glance at the younger woman.

Oh, yes… she would have had to find a hotel or go home, eventually… she had not even thought about that yet…

“Th-Thank you…” she managed to stutter, before she was pulled to her feet and Hannah was hooking her arm into hers.

“Hubby dearest! Mom wants a tour!”

Greg’s head appeared at a corner.

“How did you just call me?!?!”

Blythe couldn’t help but laugh at Greg’s exasperated expression.


	24. In good times...

By the time the sun was setting, the house was ready to be lived in, boxes were unpacked, rooms were designated and decorated, except for the one room that was supposed to become the nursery. They still had to decide the furniture and colors.

Conveniently, the house was about the same distance to all the take away places they always ordered from as House’s previous flat, and since neither Hannah nor Greg had invested any time in mastering cooking more than frozen pizza, they simply ordered Dinner, laying out plates and cutlery for the first time in their new dining room to feed the bunch of people that still stuck around after most of their helpers had waved their goodbyes.

It was Allison Cameron who raised her bottle of beer first. “To your new home. Where the hell does one get ancient torture instruments, and are you sure you really want to have them on display in your living room?”

Cramer choked on his beer, having Chase pat his back while the younger man tried to get the beverage out of the wrong pipe. The Houses just laughed, while Blythe House frowned. She had just learned that her son and his co-workers addressed each other with their family names. As for the case in the living room…

“Oh, and I mistook them for some medical instruments… Gregory, this is…” she started, not really sure if she had any right to say something about the décor they had chosen for their home. But, seriously, torture instruments? In the living room?

“A Christmas present from my wife which I love and want to display just the way it is. Most people will do just the same, Mom, think it’s medical stuff. And some of them most probably were until someone decided to use them in a more creative way. We have like… three books about ancient torture rituals and how they somehow evolved to medical procedures, right, Han?” House answered, grinning at the two men, his ex-duckling maybe sitting a bit closer to Lukas Cramer than necessary.

Greg had been somewhat surprised to find out that the two men had gone from being colleagues to becoming friends after the disaster in London. Cramer had almost died, and still seemed to appreciate psychological help to cope with what he had survived.

He had assumed that Chase was having similar problems after being faced with a gun, and had learned by now that in the end his surgeon chose to spend time with his angiologist during his convalescence. House was surprised by the easy way Cameron seemed to come to terms with the fact that she had killed a man on purpose. He himself had been so occupied by the drama that was his life that he did not really notice the two men spend more and more time together.

The withdrawal, Ketamine treatment, and the following physiotherapy kept him from work, and the board members actually had not been very happy with the way Cuddy had decided to approach the ‘House is a Vicodin addict’ problem. Putting any person on cold turkey was torture, and when presented with blood tests that had been forced on him during the police investigation they learned that he did take less than what she proclaimed, which made it once more clear that he was a pain-patient, and not a drug-doctor.

Initially he had wanted to refuse to talk to the board. Hannah’s mother, Zoe, though, had insisted that he went and did what a responsible adult would do. Admit that he had a problem, prove that he was doing something against it, keep his approbation, and show them that there would have been a more civilized way to approach this issue, instead of an over-ambitious paper-pusher staking her claim on ruling his life.

He had marched out of this conference room only a week ago, having gotten his all-clear to go back to work, to lead his department, and had stunned every single person in the room with his mature behavior. Cuddy was seething because she had been reprimanded for her way of handling this affair, after all House was prestigious to the hospital. It did serve third party funding to be able to boast with a guy who could cure the unknown and figure out the obscure.

Normally, he would have gloated right in front of her, still, he did not really know how to behave around her anymore. Her miscarriage was not a result of the things that had gone haywire right before Christmas. Her baby had lived for four more weeks and then its heart had stopped beating. He knew that Wilson still stuck around, and that they were going through this together, but he somehow felt guilty for the things he had thrown at her head when he was in pain.

Cuddy was throwing herself into her work, they were talking professional things, the tone was icy most of the time, at least from her side, and somewhere, deep inside he hoped that karma did not exist, and if it did, it would leave their little bump alone.

He had been so occupied by his own thoughts, that he actually did not know what to say when he walked into his angiologist and his ex-duckling making out in one of the on-call rooms, jumping out of each other’s arms like cockroaches fleeing the light, and the most intelligent thing that would come out of his mouth was “Huh?”

Cramer turned beet-red, Chase couldn’t wipe a self-satisfied smirk out of his face, and House actually started laughing as he closed the door as he marched into the room.

“Oh God, this is good, this is really good. I suppose you want this to stay a secret for a little longer, right?”

Cramer narrowed his eyes on his boss, after all, he knew that the man would use almost anything for blackmail, and that it would not be nice. Chase simply stuffed his hands into the pockets of his lab-coat, and confronted the older man with a grin. “What, you’re not mocking me for experimenting with my sexuality?”

“Chase, I’ve always told you that you’re too pretty to be straight.” He said that with a straight face, making the surgeon laugh, and Cramer huff.

“Can you just tell us what you want, House? If I cover any more of your clinic hours, Cuddy will fire me. The same goes for on-call duty or night shifts. So? Cleaning bed pans? Sitting with coma guy when you decided to test yet another weird theory of waking him? Do another silly bunch of tests on our patient of the week?”

Whatever he had done, he had clearly offended his duckling who was staring at him with a set jaw and grim eyes, and actually jerked when Chase touched his arm.

“He doesn’t care, Luke. He’s just teasing…”

The younger doctor just jerked his arm free and practically fled out of the room, leaving two equally confused people behind.

“Okay, that was…”

“Weird…”, Chase finished his former boss’ sentence, running a hand through his hair.

“I actually wanted to ask if the two of you would mind giving us a hand during the move to the new house, we’ll pay with beer and food… I wouldn’t…” House started, still trying to figure out how the lack of pain made him a much nicer person, even though he always claimed he was just the same old asshole as before.

“I know you wouldn’t. I’ll… try to figure it out. I’ll let you know because of the moving. It’s good to have you back, by the way.”

“It is good to be back. Now go and figure out what’s wrong with your boyfriend and tell him I don’t harass people based on their sexuality.”

It turned out that a combination of a military-trained narrow-mind of a father, and a serious case of _biggest asshole on this planet_ homophobe ex-boss had caused the minor nervous break-down. While Cramer did not deny his orientation, he also did not advertise it, especially not to his father who was, well, of a generation where being gay was considered an illness. Cramer senior had learned to live with it by pretending that it was just a phase and would be over eventually, after all, he did love his son.

Interestingly, it had not been his old man, but the ex-boss that had torpedoed his duckling’s last relationship, his boyfriend had lost his job along the way, and while officially it never was for their orientation, Doug, a man who was even well liked by Daddy Cramer as long as he ignored whatever might happen in the bedroom, had started blaming Lukas. Needless to say that the relationship did not survive.

“Chase won’t lose his job, you’re competent enough to keep yours, and everybody who disagrees will have to face me. Now, can we put this Barbieland-drama aside, and come to the important things? Will you help us getting our shit over to the other house, or what?” was House’s version of putting things back in order without letting out his inner softie too much, inflicting curious glances from both Cameron and his brand-new internist as they talked in his office.

Instead of smiling, Cramer simply sighed, running a hand through his hair before assuring his boss of his help and rattling of test-results that had been the main reason for him to enter the office. House left his team to another night of stupid tests before leaving, wondering if the case would call for the rather special qualities of his wife. But up to now the hallucinations were not that bad, and the patient’s body was not shutting down, yet.

House decided to see it as a learning experience for the younger doctors, it would be cheating if he let Hannah diagnose everything.

By the end of the week they had a cure for the woman, and apparently, Cramer was enough at ease around House and his extended family or co-workers (or simply exhausted enough), to lean against Chase, take a swing of his beer and ask: “I wonder if we could employ your family when we’re moving in together, Hannah. I’d actually like to not trip over boxes for months.”

In the commotion that arose right then, the young doctor learned two things: The McLachlan clan had already adopted all of them simply because they were somewhat Greg’s family, so, of course, they would help. And Sam, short for Samantha and the source of the female _Hi_ Blythe had heard in the morning, was terribly disappointed that the good and smoking hot guys always were either taken, or gay… or both.

Blythe by that time was flanked by Matt and Tom, trying to remember when was the last time that she had beer, while both men tried to embarrass each other and their sisters with childhood stories. Her daughter-in-law (and her mind was still stumbling over _this_ thought) was countering with equal threats of sharing rather unflattering stories, while leaning back into Greg’s embrace, resting both of her hands on her belly that was shaking with the laughter they shared.

She attempted figuring out when in-between being bullied by his father and steeling his mindset to that of a hermit her Greg had become such an open-minded and generous person who was mercilessly teasing everyone in the room, but never with the snark and the poignant words she was used to. She had blamed it on the leg… or John, bringing out the worst sides in her son whenever he was around, and he was always around. Always.

And she came to the conclusion that she did not know her son, however, the two young men flanking her did not allow her to drown in these dark thoughts for too long, digging up another one of the hilarious childhood memories that were bound to happen with the amount of siblings Hannah had.

When was the last time she did laugh like this?

Greg most of the time was occupied by stealing kisses, mocking everybody, complimenting his wife, and roaring with laughter, and eventually excusing himself because he heard the doorbell, being bombarded with various orders for more beer (and a snack, Hannah was still hungry) as he left the room.

He was not yet done hollering back that all of them knew where the fridge was when he opened the door, his words for Hannah (of course, he would feed her another… whatever she wanted, after all, he vowed to, didn’t he?) died on his tongue, though, as he turned to the person in front of his house.

“Your… your mother left the note with the address in our hand luggage…” John House quietly said as Greg simply stared at him for a while.

“You wanna come in?” he then asked, watching the man he still thought of as his father, he had not managed to detach himself that much, no matter how much he had tried.

John House returned his gaze, and eventually nodded.


End file.
